The Promised Friend
by wtw
Summary: The sequel to General Hrair, first written in 2000, but finally put on ffnet in 2003. Is it possible that a miraculous friend told of in an El-ahrairah tale really exists? Some rabbits find out just as a warren faces destruction.
1. Default Chapter

Copyright Notice, Lapine Vocabulary, Prologue, and Part 1  
  
******************************** Copyright Notice  
  
This Watership Down fan fiction ("The Promised Friend") was written May- June 2000, (c) 2000 by Bill Welch.  
  
This fan fiction is based on the concepts of the novel "Watership Down", (c) 1972 by Richard Adams, and its sequel "Tales From Watership Down", (c) 1996 by Richard Adams  
  
The author of this fan fiction (Bill Welch) is affiliated with neither "Watership Down" nor Richard Adams, and neither expects nor wants financial compensation from this fan fiction. This fan fiction is in the public domain and can be reproduced without the author's consent, provided the following five conditions are met:  
  
a) This Copyright Notice is to accompany any and all reproductions of this fan fiction. b) This Copyright Notice is not to be subtracted from, added to, or edited in any form. c) This fan fiction is not to be purchased or sold at any price. This fan fiction is also not to appear on any website where a fee is required to access this fan fiction on said website, or in any publication where a fee is required to obtain a private copy of said publication. d) The text of this fan fiction (the text outside of this Copyright Notice) is not to be subtracted from, added to, or edited in any form. e) Illustration(s) may accompany reproductions of this fan fiction provided that no person demands or receives a fee for said illustration(s), the said illustration(s) can legally be viewed by persons of any age, the said illustration(s) are within the context of said fan fiction, and any text appearing in/with said illustration(s) also appears in the text of said fan fiction. The artist's name/signature, the date of creation of said illustration(s), and an artist copyright notice may accompany said illustration(s).  
  
If there is a situation where any of these five conditions are not met for any reason, then this fan fiction is not to be reproduced in said situation.  
  
The author of this fan fiction (Bill Welch) reserves the sole right to edit the text of this copyright notice and the text of this fan fiction in exception to conditions b) and d).  
  
The Postcode Plants Database found at the URL , the Met Office website found at the URL , Chris Rae's English to American Dictionary found at the URL and the map entitled, "A Traveler's Map of Britain and Ireland", published with the June 2000 issue of National Geographic, were used as references in the creation of this fan fiction.  
  
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION Copyright (c) 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used with permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.  
  
This Copyright Notice is effective as of 12:00 P.M. Mountain Daylight Time, Monday, June 26, 2000 and has no expiry date.  
  
End of Copyright Notice Text  
  
**************************************** Lapine Vocabulary  
  
Black Rabbit (of Inlé) = the rabbit who comes to claim those who die Bobstones = rabbit guessing game (number and nature of pebbles covered by paws) Efrafa = a hostile rabbit warren that was a virtual police state and that was run by General Woundwort El-Ahrairah = rabbit folk hero Elil = enemy of a rabbit (predator) Embleer = stinking (smell of fox) - can be used as a curse Flay = normal food (grass) Flayrah = good food Frith = the sun, rabbit god Fu-Inlé = night time (after Inlé rises) Hawk = any bird of prey Hlessi = a rabbit without a warren to call home (plural is hlessil) Homba = fox (plural is hombil) Hrair = thousand; any number over four Hraka = droppings - can be used as a curse Hrududu = any motor vehicle (plural is hrududil) Inlé = moon Iron Road = railroad Marli = mother rabbit Ni-Frith = noon Owsla = a rabbit warren's defence unit Pfeffa = cat Pylon Line = power lines Rah = leader, Chief Rabbit Silf = outdoors, on surface of ground (out of burrows) Silflay = eat outside Stop Running = die Tharn = state of shock and paralysis Zorn = destroyed, murdered  
  
******************************  
  
The Promised Friend  
  
Prologue  
  
Arum was in serious trouble; there was no doubt about that. Plodding slowly through the mud and the driving rain, the buck carried his lone surviving doe kitten in his mouth, pausing occasionally to drop her and be racked by a fit of coughing. He had just lost his home, his mate, and all but one of his kittens, and now he was losing the last of his strength to sickness and the freezing rain. He was about as miserable as any rabbit could be.  
  
He finally found shelter in the form of an apparently abandoned burrow in a muddy hillside. It was a large enough hole to have potentially belonged to elil at one time, but Arum wasn't in any condition to refuse the relative warmth and dryness to be found there. He curled up in a far corner and held his kitten, Meadow, close to him.  
  
He could detect the residual smell of a homba, and decided that this must have been the former resident. Then he realized that the scent wasn't just residual, but seemed to be growing stronger. Before he had a chance to fully register the alarm, the opening to the burrow was darkened, and there stood a homba - a vixen. Arum froze and hoped against hope that the vixen would lose interest in the burrow and just move on. But, the homba had already caught the rabbits' scent, and was now looking directly at them.  
  
Arum slowly got up, took a step forward, and then looked back at Meadow, who was sleeping fitfully. It was out of the question to attempt escape or even a meager defence. But, he wasn't able to try either option. Overcome by fear, sickness, exhaustion, and cold, Arum collapsed and fell into a near comatose state.  
  
He couldn't have known that he and Meadow had just had an incredible stroke of good fortune.  
  
************  
  
Part One - Heir To The Command  
  
"My son, preserve sound judgment and discernment, do not let them out of your sight; they will be life for you, an ornament to grace your neck." Proverbs 3:21-22, NIV  
  
"Do you really think that I could make the Owsla that soon?"  
  
It was the summer after the battle with Cypress, and the now year-old Flax, eldest son of the late Poplar, was looking incredulously at Oaktrunk, the Owsla Captain of Cloudtree Warren - General Hrairah's warren..  
  
"Flax, I've never seen any rabbit finish a hobaring so quickly. Just four days - it's always been done in hrair days - Inle's quarter cycle wasn't even close to finished yet." Oaktrunk looked at Flax with much pride. Flax greatly resembled Poplar in both appearance and sheer determination. However, he was considerably larger than his father had been at his age, in fact, he was almost as large as Oaktrunk already. This greater size, coupled with his strength, enabled Flax to out-wrestle most any opponent in training. He was also gifted with speed, and usually finished in the top three in races, and won far more than his fair share of them. Oaktrunk didn't like to play favourites, but Flax was definitely his favourite Owsla hopeful. "Yes, I don't see why you couldn't be an Owsla Junior Officer by autumn."  
  
The rank of Junior Officer had also been the target of Poplar's Owsla dreams. Usually, most Owsla hopefuls start as Cadets. But Flax, devastated by his father's death during Cypress' assault on Ivy's warren, wanted to honour his father by taking that same path into the Owsla. His numerous abilities were helping his aspiration along greatly.  
  
Flax was greatly encouraged by this news. He put even more effort into his training, which consisted not only of wrestling and racing, but scouting expeditions as well. It was on one of these expeditions that Flax proved his character beyond any doubt.  
  
***  
  
It was a fine summer evening perhaps a mile from Cloudtree Warren, and Flax was part of a training scout consisting of four rabbits, including its leader, an Owsla veteran by the name of Dewberry. Dewberry was taking the three Owsla hopefuls - the year-old Flax, and a pair of two-year-old bucks - on a trek to visit a local farm and raid the garden there. They were busy nibbling on several lettuce heads when near tragedy struck.  
  
A large tomcat had spotted the rabbits enter the garden; it cautiously and silently crept up behind them, using some rows of corn as a cover. When it was only two feet away from Dewberry, it attacked. It leapt onto Dewberry's back, sank its teeth into him, and proceeding to thrash him around by the neck. Dewberry was paralyzed by pain and terror, unable to even emit a squeal. Flax heard a commotion, and turned around to see the tomcat flailing Dewberry about.  
  
Without thinking, he leapt at the surprised cat, which dropped Dewberry and turned on him instead. The cat slashed Flax several times and then pinned him onto his back, immediately gripping him by the throat in its teeth. Bleeding and unable to breathe, Flax made a desperate gouging kick with his left back foot, opening a gash in the cat's belly. The cat yowled in pain and let Flax go, and Flax immediately followed up with a vicious clawing cuff at the cat's face, leaving long, parallel gashes. With this, the cat reared back in pain and fled, leaving a trail of blood behind it.  
  
Fortunately for Flax, his wounds were not very serious; neither the cat's claws nor teeth had penetrated far into his flesh or caused serious injury. However, Dewberry was in much worse shape. He lay on the ground, bleeding and in obvious pain. Though he was still conscious, he lay very still.  
  
"Dewberry! Don't give up on us, you can make it," said Flax, automatically taking charge, "The pfeffa is gone; we can go home now." He pressed a paw against the wound in Dewberry's neck, in an effort to staunch the bleeding, and causing Dewberry to wince. Fortunately, after a minute, the bleeding had lessened considerably.  
  
Buckler, one of the other rabbits said, "Flax, we've got to get him out of here. The pfeffa may come back, or else a human will see us." When Buckler began dragging Dewberry, the stricken rabbit squealed in pain, "Stop! Don't!"  
  
"No, wait," replied Flax, addressing both of the other rabbits, "His neck is hurt; don't drag him. Buckler and Twayblade, keep him still for now. I'm going to see if I can find anything to help us."  
  
"Flax, we've got to get him out of here now!" repeated Buckler more urgently.  
  
"I agree, Buckler, but we can't drag him in this condition. Just wait here with him; I'll figure something out."  
  
So Flax was forced to put to use another talent that he was gifted with - problem solving. He had studied all of the stories about Watership Down's Blackberry, the brilliant buck that could figure out most any problem. What would Blackberry do now? thought Flax. He remembered the stories of Blackberry using floating objects to enable rabbits to travel on water, but how could they carry an incapacitated Dewberry to safety? No water was to be found here.  
  
An idea came to Flax' mind. If Blackberry found objects to carry rabbits on water, then he would have to find something to carry a rabbit on land. Of course, objects on water tended to be fairly easy to move, or indeed would even move of their own accord, but moving something on land that was carrying Dewberry would require considerable effort. But first, something suitable had to be found.  
  
Flax searched through the garden, trying to imagine what sort of thing could be used to carry Dewberry. He watched from a safe distance as a human child pulled a wagon full of sand behind him. That's a clever concept, thought Flax, but unfortunately, even if it were possible to lift Dewberry into that thing, it would be impossible to move something that large. The urgency of the situation now increased. The rabbits had to find a safe hiding place before that child found them. Human children were notorious for their interest in animals, especially wild animals that they could catch (namely young or wounded ones), and their intentions were certainly not always kind - downright evil in fact, as all rabbits believed. Then, something caught his eye.  
  
It was a man-thing, a gray fabric of some sort, caught up in a barb-wire fence at the edge of the garden. Flax went closer to investigate. It was an old, torn towel, probably thrown from a passing hrududu onto the road running parallel to the fence, then blown to its present position. Flax, overcoming a dread caused by the smell of man that saturated the towel, carefully pulled at the towel, giving several strong tugs until it finally tore free of the barbs. Flax lay it out full to check its size; it was more than large enough to accommodate the plan forming in his mind.  
  
Carrying the dirty towel in his mouth back to where the wounded Dewberry lay, he addressed the two other rabbits, "All right, here's my plan. We need to get Dewberry onto this, then we can carry it and Dewberry, and keep his head still. I can't imagine we'll go too quickly, but perhaps we can find shelter that will keep us safe for a few days, until Dewberry can walk on his own again. Anywhere is better than here for the moment."  
  
Both Buckler and Twayblade exchanged confused looks. Trying to fathom this new kind of transportation was like the average lay person bending their mind around the theory of relativity. Then they wrinkled their noses. "We have no idea what you're talking about, but where under Frith did you find that? It reeks of man; we can't have that here!" protested Twayblade.  
  
"Indeed it comes from man, but it is no longer in man's possession, so it is safe. Just get over the smell, will you?" assured Flax. He then turned to his barely-conscious friend, "Dewberry, can you hear me? I need your help here. Can you perhaps walk yourself onto this?" Dewberry groggily shook his head and remained still. So, Flax addressed the other two again, "All right, help me roll him onto it. Slowly and carefully!" The three rabbits gently nudged the screaming Dewberry over once until he was lying on the towel.  
  
"You're doing fine, Dewberry," said Flax, "we're getting you out of here now." But Dewberry had already passed out.  
  
"Oh, great, " moaned Buckler, "now what do we do? We're not safe here."  
  
"Relax!" admonished Flax, "Now we carry this thing, and Dewberry comes with us." Buckler and Twayblade again exchanged confused expressions. Flax sighed, "Just grab one corner each in your mouth like this," he demonstrated, "pull tight, and then walk. We carry it and Dewberry can be kept still enough so that his neck won't be hurt any worse than it already is.."  
  
Both confused rabbits each hesitantly took a front corner of the towel in their mouths and waited further instruction. "Good," continued Flax, "now just wait for my signal and then walk ahead." Dewberry grabbed the back of the towel in its middle, taking care to keep Dewberry balanced, and pulled the towel taut. The towel and Dewberry were now barely clear of the ground. He then made a loud, yet muffled sound through the towel. The other two rabbits took the signal and started off.  
  
Slowly, with the three rabbits straining, they made progress. They eventually were able to carry Dewberry out of the garden, under the bottom wire of the fence, and into an adjoining field. Some distance away stood a large steel shed. Flax made another sound through the towel in mouth and pulled back on the towel. The other rabbits stopped and looked back, the towel still in their mouths. Carefully putting the towel down, Flax said, clearly indicating the shed by gesturing with his head, "That's where we're going. If it keeps us safe for a few days, then that will be enough. Let's hope for the best."  
  
Some minutes later, stopping once to allow Flax to check on the condition of their sleeping friend, the rabbits arrived at their destination. The shed was meant to hold farm equipment, but was apparently presently unused. That was fortunate, as was the fact that the door was open, and that there was no threshold at the bottom to lift Dewberry over. They carried Dewberry into a corner and themselves collapsed from exhaustion. "You did well," said Flax, "You did excellent work. Now, we wait for Dewberry to be well again. Until then, we stay with him."  
  
As it turned out, that was three days. While Dewberry lay in recovery, the other rabbits kept guard against potential elil, and brought their stricken friend fresh grass. As well, they regularly cleaned his wound, licking it to prevent infection. Finally, one evening, Dewberry was able to stand and walk around the floor of the shed. "Whatever was hurting in my neck seems better now," said Dewberry, "I'll be ready tomorrow, then we can go back to the warren. General Hrairah and Oaktrunk must be worried sick about us."  
  
"You can bet on it," replied Flax, "They probably think we were taken by elil by now. My poor Finch and little Burdock must be devastated." His thoughts had been with his mate and kitten since the whole ordeal began.  
  
Buckler and Twayblade also echoed concern for their own families. Just then, the rabbits froze as they heard approaching footsteps - those of a human. The plodding slowed as the human neared the door and then stopped for a moment. Then, the same boy that Flax had seen pulling the sand wagon along poked his head around the corner of the shed's door and looked in.  
  
After looking around the empty shop for a few moments, the boy spotted the rabbits in the corner. A look of delight lit up his face, and the rabbits, growling as fiercely as they knew how, backed even further into the corner. The boy began to enter the shed, but suddenly stopped and looked back outside. A human female, in all likelihood the boy's mother, was yelling something. The boy yelled back, "Aw, mum, already?" Another yell from his mother. The boy protested, "But there ain't even school tomorrow. It's the middle of summer!" Another louder yell could be heard. The boy's head slumped. "All right, I'm comin', mum!" he yelled back, then looking at the rabbits, added, "I'll see you guys tomorrow." With that, he closed the door to the shed. The rabbits heard the clicking sounds of the door latch fastening.  
  
The rabbits were filled with dread. They had to get out of this place. Why the boy had left, they didn't know. Perhaps they had frightened him with their defensive display. However, the boy would almost certainly eventually return, perhaps with more humans. Flax examined the door, but saw no way out.  
  
"We'll have to dig our way out - and fast." said Flax. However, the shed had steel walls and a concrete floor. After several fruitless minutes, the rabbits had to admit defeat.  
  
"It's no use - we're as good as dead." whined Twayblade.  
  
"Nonsense!" snapped Flax, "The boy has to come back eventually. We must stay right by the door, and when he opens it, we bolt. It's that simple." Then, looking at Dewberry, he added, "You get some sleep; you need it. We'll keep watch and wake you the instant the boy returns. We'll have to be ready to run like we've never run before."  
  
"You're right," conceded Twayblade, "but I wouldn't say 'run like we've never run before.'" adding with a chuckle, "We all know how slowly humans run."  
  
At this, Dewberry added, "Well, I plan to run like I've never run before. I'm a bit stiff, but I think I can make it - whenever that boy comes back."  
  
Then, Buckler observed, "That's the problem. We don't know when he's coming back. What if he's left us here to starve?"  
  
"No," said Flax firmly, "he's coming back - probably in the morning. Just be prepared."  
  
***  
  
While Dewberry had slept peacefully, the other three rabbits had kept a vigilant watch, or rather, a vigilant listen, as there was no chance of elil getting into the shed. They kept their ears peeled for any noises outside, as they had to get out of the door and be off and running at the instant that it opened again.  
  
Soon after it was light again, Buckler's ears perked up. "Wait! I hear something!"  
  
"Honest, mum, there's rabbits in there! I shut them in!"  
  
"All right, Johnny, let's see them, then, if that'll make you happy. We're late enough as it is. We were supposed to leave for Grandmum's twenty minutes ago!" The boy's mother peered into one of the shop's windows, observing, "Well, I don't see anything! You're just making up stories, aren't you?"  
  
"NO, mum, look!" The boy opened the door to the shed. No sooner had he done so than four streaks shot out from the gap and past the shocked humans.  
  
"Run, hurry! They might have guns!" urged Flax, taking up the rear as the rabbits made their break. He had made sure that Dewberry had been the first to go, followed by Buckler and Twayblade, then himself. If anyone were to be caught, he wanted it to be himself, as he stood the best chance of escape. As he had put it, "I'll shred any hand that touches me!"  
  
After a minute at top speed, the rabbits felt safe enough to stop. "Well, no doubt about your health, Dewberry," smiled Flax, "Lead the way back home, sir!"  
  
"No," panted Dewberry, "you lead the way. Believe me, Oaktrunk is going to get a glowing report on your conduct. You saved my life, Flax. And I'll never forget it."  
  
***  
  
"This settles it, Flax." Oaktrunk was looking at him with great pride. In fact, he saw Flax as his own son. That was partly because Oaktrunk never took a mate, and thus had no sons of his own, but the bond was strengthened after Flax' father Poplar was killed. As much as Oaktrunk wanted someone to look up to him, Flax needed someone to look up to.  
  
"What do you mean, sir?" Flax looked at Finch and Burdock, then gazed at the Captain expectantly.  
  
"What I mean is, you're the one."  
  
"The one what?"  
  
"Frith has given you so many gifts - strength, speed, courage, wisdom - I could go on. As you know, I've been Owsla Captain for two years now. I was three years old when I became Captain. Honestly, Flax, I'm not as fast as I used to be. I can feel it. I don't want to be the Captain unless I'm as fit as I can be. I was planning on stepping aside next spring, and have been considering who to pick to succeed me. I know you're only one year old now, but next spring, you'll be two. I honestly feel that you are the best rabbit for the job. Of course, General Hrairah needs to approve, but I'm sure he'll agree."  
  
Flax was speechless. He would have been ecstatic about an early admission to the rank of Junior Officer. But being the Owsla Captain was beyond his wildest dreams. He stood open-mouthed for several minutes before managing a reply, "Sir... Are you sure about this? Is this real? I can't be, not yet..."  
  
"I'm sure, it's real, and you will be next spring, if you say yes."  
  
"My father wouldn't have believed this... I wish he could be here... And my marli won't believe it either..."  
  
"I'm sure your father is very proud of you, Flax. He raised a good son. And your marli will believe it, since I'm telling her myself."  
  
Flax, Finch, and Burdock accompanied Oaktrunk as he went to tell Pearl of her eldest son's pending promotion. Pearl burst into tears and embraced Flax. "I'm so proud of you son, you deserve this, don't doubt that for a moment." Flax' brother and sister, Tobacco and Sapphire, were also there to give their congratulations.  
  
"Just to think, I beat you in wrestling once." quipped Tobacco. Flax playfully pinned his brother in response.  
  
"Once," laughed Flax, "and never again."  
  
"Oof! I wouldn't think of it, Captain" replied Tobacco.  
  
************ 


	2. Part 2

Part Two - New Grotto  
  
"Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and everyone else." 1 Thessalonians 5:15, NIV  
  
Grotto Warren changed forever when Cypress and his bloodthirsty army was destroyed at Ivy's warren. No one knew what to do when Cypress didn't return victorious from his mission of destruction. Many would not believe the news brought back by the two messenger does that Cypress had pressed into service, and who had survived to return. There was a period of confusion and anxiety with the absence of leadership. Some still thought that Cypress would eventually return, but this belief waned as more Grotton survivors returned home.  
  
Those survivors related the tale of how Cypress' forces were quickly obliterated, but emphasized the fact that the wounded Grottons were nursed back to health and unconditionally freed by the victors. They told how Ivy had wanted this, and how after he and Cypress died in the final battle, the new Chief General Hrairah had also insisted that forgiveness be shown to the Grottons.  
  
That was quite the concept for a warren used to the cruel antics of Chief Cypress. He would never release prisoners; rather, he would take pleasure in having them randomly tortured and executed for the smallest crimes that Cypress would perceive had been committed. No one in the warren would dare speak out, though, for fear of suffering the same fate. To Chief Cypress, all rabbits except himself and his most loyal Owsla and Council were expendable.  
  
After a few days of Cypress' absence, a power struggle began to emerge. One of the older rabbits, named Walnut, felt that Grotto should become more like General Hrairah's warren, as it was obvious where Cypress' ways had gotten him and his followers. But, the rabbits that had been sent to containment by Cypress after their failed earlier raid on Ivy's warren - led by Spleenwort - had other ideas. They conveniently released themselves from their punishment upon word of Chief Cypress' death, and tried to set Spleenwort up as the new Chief.  
  
Fortunately, the other Grottons had had enough of the legacy of Cypress. They all unanimously rallied behind Walnut and faced the would-be coup leaders. Spleenwort's group was terribly outnumbered, and after a brief struggle, in which several rabbits were hurt but fortunately none killed, Spleenwort and his friends were ejected from Grotto for good. They were never seen or heard of again in the region.  
  
After the coup attempt, it was universally accepted that Walnut was the new Chief of Grotto Warren. He immediately sent an envoy to General Hrairah declaring Grotto's new peaceful way of life, and even to ask for advice. To Chief Walnut's surprise and joy, General Hrairah himself showed up in response.  
  
"It's an honour to have you here, my friend," said Walnut, "Welcome to my warren."  
  
"It's a pleasure to be here," replied General Hrairah, "and I'm glad to hear of your rah-ship here, and your plans for Grotto."  
  
"Cypress is a memory," assured Walnut, "hopefully not even that someday. But, what I really needed was just some guidance. I know we're both new Chiefs, but you already have a reputation for wisdom. I mean, I'm hrair years of age, and you are only one, right? You have to be very wise to be a Chief while so young!"  
  
General Hrairah looked away humbly. "Thank you. I'd be glad to share ideas, Walnut, and I'm sure at your age, you've plenty of wisdom to go around yourself. I propose we meet at least once per cycle of Inle, to share advice and news. How does that sound?"  
  
"Consider it done."  
  
So, regular meetings were held each month, hosted alternately by each warren. The meetings became quite an event, earnestly anticipated by everyone. It not only was used by the Chiefs and Owsla Captains to exchange advice and news, but also for telling stories, which is a favourite lapine pastime. A storyteller from one warren would accompany his Chief and share his or her tales with the other warren.  
  
***  
  
The first winter of peace between Grotto and General Hrairah's warren was a severe one. The journey between the two warrens was made difficult by the deep snow and biting winds, but none of the meetings were missed.  
  
On one winter day, while the rabbits were gathered on the silf after one of the meetings that was held at General Hrairah's warren, Walnut mentioned that it was odd that the warren had no agreed-upon name. It had been known as Ivy's warren, and now it was known by the name of its new Chief. "Every other warren I have heard of has been named - why not yours?"  
  
"I guess we've never had the need for one," replied General Hrairah, "but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have one. Any suggestions?"  
  
"I don't know; what comes to your mind?" prodded Walnut.  
  
"Hmmm..." Chief Hrairah looked around, "What do I see? Ah! There's a cloud, and there's a tree! How about 'Cloudtree'?"  
  
More than half of the rabbits within earshot made an earnest attempt to stifle snickers. Many of the rest failed to suppress their laughter. Brilliant, Walnut-rah, thought Oaktrunk with amusement and mild annoyance, Now that's going to be our name. However, in the long run, most felt the warren's new name to be as good as any, and the name remained.  
  
***  
  
In the late winter after Cloudtree Warren was named, the Grottons received quite a test of their new outlook on life. It all began when a young hlessi - a doe - was found wandering and apparently lost in the snow and cold near the warren. She reported that she had managed to escape a distant rabbit hutch. That was apparent, given the strong scent of man on her - and that was a major problem for the Grottons who found her.  
  
"Who are you, hlessi?" demanded Beet, the Grotton Owsla Captain, in an openly hostile tone.  
  
"I-I... my n-name is F-Fawn," replied the shivering doe, "c-could I p- please st-stay with your warren? I've n-nowhere to g-go."  
  
"Nowhere to go; you've got that right, hlessi!" growled Beet, pinning Fawn roughly down in the snow, "Don't you know what happens to rabbits that stink of humans?" He called to several other rabbits that by now had gathered to see the commotion, "Here! Help me kill this hlessi before she attracts every human around!"  
  
At this, Fawn squealed in terror and struggled in vain to escape. "No! Please! Don't do this! Please!"  
  
The other Owsla had gathered around the now sobbing Fawn, sparked to anger by the human scent on her. Just then, another Grotton saw the commotion and came over to investigate. "What's happening?" he inquired..  
  
"You stay out of this, Restharrow!" snapped Beet, "This is for the Owsla to handle!"  
  
***  
  
Restharrow had been in the Grotton Owsla under Cypress, but had left the Owsla for good after his experience during the attack on Ivy's warren. Unlike the others who were in that raid, Restharrow wasn't a true volunteer to attack and destroy Ivy's warren. His father and older brother, who both jumped to volunteer to join the bloodletting, had dragged him into the whole sordid affair against his will. He had never felt that it was right, but there was no escape. To refuse would have meant being branded a traitor, as his father was one of Cypress' closest advisors. His father's position enabled Restharrow to get into the Owsla despite being only one year of age at the time.  
  
When the time came to attack the enemy by raiding each of the entrances to Ivy's warren two Grottons at a time, his father had forced Restharrow to go with him. Restharrow shuddered to remember what happened next:  
  
"Sir, I can smell rabbits here." (His father always insisted on being addressed as "sir", even by his own sons.)  
  
"No kidding, you think? You idiot!" snapped his father.  
  
"Sir, I don't feel good about this," whispered Restharrow.  
  
"You want me to tell Cypress that you said that?"  
  
Then, they were set upon. His father was killed, and Restharrow had begged for mercy, after which he was cuffed repeatedly. When he had awoken some time later, a doe by the name of Crystal was tending to him and several other wounded Grottons.  
  
"What's your name, son?" asked Crystal, making note of his youthful appearance.  
  
"Restharrow, ma'am. Are you going to kill me?" he squeaked.  
  
"No, Restharrow," said Crystal softly, with a reassuring look, "rather, when you feel you are better, you are free to leave."  
  
"Thank you, ma'am." He got up, but a sudden splitting headache made him lie down again. "Maybe not yet," he finished weakly.  
  
After spending two more days there, and witnessing General Hrairah becoming the new Chief, Restharrow decided to return to Grotto. He would never forget the kindness shown him, despite being part of an invasion bent on destroying Ivy's warren.  
  
***  
  
Restharrow's focus returned to the present. "You're going to kill her just because she smells of humans, aren't you?"  
  
"Why, of course," replied Beet, "We can't have men wandering around here, now can we?"  
  
"But don't you remember the story of General Hrairah? He smelled of man, too, when he arrived at Ivy's warren, and he ended up helping save them from Cypress. Give that poor hlessi a chance, at least."  
  
"What's this about?" demanded Walnut, who had just arrived on the scene.  
  
"We're just getting rid of a human's pet, sir." replied Beet.  
  
"No, you are NOT" growled Restharrow.  
  
"And why is that, hmm? Do you think that a civilian can order an Owsla member around?" Beet pressed his face into Restharrow's, his growl matching Restharrow's.  
  
"I choose her as my mate, so let her be!" stated Restharrow firmly. Fawn looked up in surprise, tears running down her cheeks.  
  
Chief Walnut immediately caught onto Restharrow's idea. "Well, that settles it, then. She is no longer a hlessi, but a member of our warren, and is to be treated as such."  
  
"But Chief," protested Beet, "What about-"  
  
"This issue is settled, Beet," Walnut flatly cut in, "leave her alone." He looked at the doe and asked, "What is your name, then?"  
  
"Fawn, sir."  
  
"Good to meet you, Fawn," said Restharrow, giving a grateful glance to Walnut, "let me show you our warren."  
  
Fawn, shaken by her experience, nodded in agreement and stayed close to Restharrow as he showed his mate around her new home. Their first litter was in mid-spring.  
  
Chief Walnut gave a long lecture to Beet after that incident regarding welcoming strangers, regardless of what instinct told him about man-scented hlessil. "Haven't you heard of Hazel-rah of Watership Down?" Walnut had said, "He didn't kill hlessil that smelled of man, he protected them." Walnut had, during the Rah meetings, listened carefully to all that General Hrairah and his warren knew of the rabbits of Watership Down, a warren of old that Cloudtree Warren obviously respected greatly and held as a standard to live up to.  
  
Beet eventually saw reason, ashamed that he hadn't been fully able to shake Cypress' legacy. He apologized to Fawn, and then to his own mate Pipit, whom he knew was upset at how he had treated the new doe. Then, after apologizing to the rest of the warren, he was glad to help carry out Walnut's new policy of welcoming any rabbit that may wander through, regardless of man-scent or any other circumstances.  
  
************ 


	3. Part 3

Part Three - Hunter  
  
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Matthew 5:4, NIV  
  
General Hrairah was more than pleased to hear of Oaktrunk's wish to have Flax succeed him as Captain of the Owsla. He called a general meeting outside in the warm summer evening to complete the formalities. Finch and Burdock, as well as Flax' siblings and marli, were at the front of the crowd, offering their encouragement.  
  
"I see absolutely no reason to disagree with your decision, Oaktrunk," General Hrairah said, "in fact, I probably would have suggested Flax myself if you hadn't been first. I hereby second and confirm your choice of your successor." Then he turned to the beaming Flax and asked, "Do you agree to our decision?"  
  
Flax replied with gusto, "Yes, sir! I agree!"  
  
General Hrairah replied, "I hereby appoint you, Flax, as the Owsla Captain- In-Waiting. Upon the retirement of Oaktrunk next spring, you will resume full duties as Captain of the Owsla. Congratulations! Oh, and by the way, consider your Owsla training complete. You are now also an Owsla Junior Officer."  
  
A cheer went up from the crowd, and Flax was tackled playfully by his brother. "Tobacco!" scolded Pearl in an embarrassed whisper, "Stop that!"  
  
Flax easily pushed Tobacco off and pinned him, laughing, "See? I'm the wrestling king of all time!"  
  
"You wish, brother," replied Tobacco, also in laughter, "I just need to practise more."  
  
Pearl hid her face with her paws in embarrassment. Such a way to behave at a formal ceremony, she thought.  
  
***  
  
It was late summer, and Flax was leading a scouting expedition consisting of Dewberry, Twayblade, Buckler, and himself, to another nearby farm. The four had become close friends after the pfeffa incident, and would often go scouting together. On this occasion, Flax was hoping to ascertain the quality of the gardens in the area's farms as harvest time drew near. The farm that was their current objective was on the edge of a wood about half a mile from Cloudtree Warren. The weather was unusually warm and quite humid, with no trace of wind.  
  
They made their way along a row of cabbages, taking care that one of them was on the lookout at all times. Within a few minutes, there were noticeable bite marks out of the best leaves on each plant. The farmer would not be pleased when he noticed this the following morning. With full stomachs, the rabbits decided to return home.  
  
When they were crossing the meadow back to Cloudtree, they came across a foul stench that had not been there earlier that day - something unlike anything else that they had ever smelled before. A skunk, a rarity to say the least in England, had used its primary defence in the area and the smell made the rabbits' eyes water. Thus, they had a hard time seeing, as the world was blurry. However, their main disadvantage was that they were now also scent-blind with such a strong scent overpowering all other smells. They couldn't sense out any elil that normally would be easily detected. And that was exactly what the concealed homba had in his mind.  
  
The fox had come up with its clever trick some weeks ago, after he found the skunk, which had escaped from a nearby private exotic animal collector. He had curiously sniffed at the seemingly harmless alien intruder, and immediately received quite a shock. It took days of rolling in water, mud, and grass to lessen the smell to a bearable level. But then, he noticed how easy it was to sneak up on prey normally tipped off long in advance of its presence, due to the strong scent typical of foxes. The intended prey had no idea what to make of the skunk stench, but were unconcerned, as they couldn't smell the fox. All too often, they wouldn't know the fox was there until it was too late.  
  
The fox knew that eventually the animals would associate the skunk's scent with danger, so he decided to take advantage while he could. When the smell had weakened to the point that the fox's natural scent was detectable again, he managed to find the skunk one more time and harass it into spraying again. He could live with the stench as long as it was easy to catch the next meal - though he was careful not to get sprayed in the face..  
  
The homba was now watching the rabbits proceed across the meadow with hungry eyes. He could see that the rabbits had no idea of his presence, even as he quietly crept along and made his way to within pouncing distance. His target, Buckler, who was trailing his friends, didn't even see him coming.  
  
The other three rabbits snapped their heads around when the heard Buckler's agonized squealing. Again, Flax' instinct took over. "Buckler!" he screamed, "play dead!"  
  
Buckler obeyed, despite his state of being tharn. He was extremely lucky. The homba was quite young, and did not yet know Lapine well enough to understand what Flax had said. He let Buckler go when his prey stopped struggling, and then inspected his assumed kill. "Now! Go!" yelled Flax.  
  
Buckler immediately got up and sped away, fortunately wounded only superficially. Twayblade and Dewberry had resisted the urge to flee in order to try to help as well, and now Flax urged them all on, "Go! Go! Get away!" he commanded as he also started at a full run.  
  
The homba, however, was not ready to give up his meal. His attention focused now on Flax, and he gave chase. Flax had been widening the gap, but then made the panicked error of beginning to zig-zag, believing the homba to be right on his tail, and this cost him distance. Then, his left back foot slipped out from under him as it hit a depression in the ground. Flax tumbled nearly end over end, and in no time, the homba was upon him. Flax gave a strangled squeal as the homba's jaws closed around his neck, then fell silent as he was flayed about and his neck was broken.  
  
The other rabbits could only watch helplessly from a distance as their friend died. They stood there in shock for a minute, but couldn't bear to watch as the homba began to feed. Silently, they made their way back to Cloudtree Warren, with tears in their eyes.  
  
Oaktrunk was there to greet them, and knew immediately that something terrible had happened. He saw the agony on the three rabbits' faces, and noticed Flax' absence. He knew that those four were always scouting together, so where was... NO! Not again! I can't lose another friend, not NOW! Not EVER AGAIN! thought Oaktrunk desperately. Fighting back his fears, he asked gruffly, "Where is he? What happened?"  
  
Dewberry only shook his head in response and burst into tears anew, along with Buckler and Twayblade. Then, Oaktrunk knew.  
  
Oaktrunk broke the news first to Finch and Burdock, then to Pearl, Sapphire, and Tobacco. Their devastation left them in near silence, unable even to cry.  
  
That evening, Oaktrunk, led by Dewberry and accompanied by Flax' next-of- kin, returned to the scene of the tragedy. The homba was nowhere to be found, but there was blood and bits of fur still on the ground. The blood was unmistakably Flax' by scent. Now, there was no doubt. Oaktrunk looked down, the bloodstained grass blurred by tears. He could offer only, "Good- bye, my friend. You will be remembered always."  
  
***  
  
A dark mood hung over Cloudtree Warren over the next days. Rabbits would burst into tears without any direct provocation, and would then be comforted by anyone who was nearby, although the comforter would often be crying, as well. The fact that the future Owsla Captain was dead was slow in sinking in. No one considered who might be the replacement yet, because that didn't matter at the time. A good and loyal friend was lost.  
  
The warren's designated storyteller, Swather, decided to try to help in his own way by recounting a tale that he hoped would be most appropriate for this dreary occasion. He silently went around the warren, inviting everyone to the main burrow to hear his story. Most of the warren showed up, in need of anything to take their mind of their grief.  
  
***  
  
Swather had often been teased by the other kittens in his youth, mostly due to his unusual name. He was the only buck in the warren not named after flora of some sort. He was often nicknamed "hrududu", as he was actually named after one of the big machines in the fields. Of course, any human vehicle is a "hrududu" to a rabbit, but Swather's parents decided to come up with a more specific name.  
  
While still young, Swather developed a seemingly innate ability to tell stories. He had vigorously learned all of the stories told by his father, the ones handed down over the generations, especially the ones that related to the history of Watership Down. In fact, it was often said that he must be a distant descendant of Dandelion, the famous Watership storyteller. Whether he was or not, nobody could tell. But, it would explain how the Watership Down stories made it to Cloudtree Warren intact, if the stories had been handed down starting with Dandelion himself.  
  
Nowadays, Swather could always attract a crowd with his stories, much like Dandelion did in his heyday. Story time was a much-anticipated event - kittens would beg their marlis to let them stay up to hear the stories, and then would pester Swather to tell more stories even when it was very late and Swather could barely hold his eyes open. And of course, the adult rabbits wouldn't want to miss the stories, either. It had always been a happy time - except on this tearful night.  
  
***  
  
The rabbits waited in the main burrow, anticipating Swather's story.  
  
"I know we are all grieving now," said Swather quietly, "so I've decided to tell a story that I hope will bring some comfort. This story was around even before Hazel-rah, Dandelion, and Watership Down, though I must say it's rarely told. It's the story of El-ahrairah and The Promised Friend."  
  
************ 


	4. Part 4

Part Four - The Promised Friend  
  
"I rejoice in your promise like one who finds great spoil." Psalm 119:162, NIV  
  
Swather waited before beginning his story, listening to whispers and quiet weeping in the darkness. The weeping he recognized as belonging to Finch, as well as Pearl and her daughter Sapphire, who had been beyond consolation since the tragedy. Burdock remained silent, his head buried in his marli's side. Tobacco was also devastated, but concentrated his strength on supporting and comforting his mother and sister.  
  
Hoping that his voice would not break while speaking, Swather cleared his throat and began the story in his familiar voice, soft yet clearly audible throughout the main burrow.  
  
"As you know, El-ahrairah had many mates, and countless kittens. He was proud of all of his young ones, and enjoyed watching them romping in the fields on sunny days. He was also fond of all of his mates, but one in particular was a bit closer to El-ahrairah's heart. Her name was Linnet, and she was his closest confidant. Whenever El-ahrairah felt angry, sad, or otherwise not himself, he could always count on kind and wise words from Linnet to cheer him up and get him back on four paws.  
  
"Once, El-ahrairah came to blows with Rabscuttle, his Owsla Captain, over a seemingly minor incident during a raid upon King Darian's garden. El- ahrairah had just finished tunneling under the garden fence, and was proceeding cautiously towards the fresh lettuce rows, when Rabscuttle stamped the alarm of elil. Both rabbits bolted back under the fence, but no elil was to be seen. Although there was no harm done, El-ahrairah was rather upset, and uncharacteristically made a mountain out of a molehill. 'Honestly, how difficult can it be to recognize elil? Surely you can tell a homba from a lettuce plant?'  
  
"Rabscuttle wordlessly endured the chiding, which went on for the remainder of the time that they nibbled on the lettuce plants, and even on the trip back to their warren. Finally, as they neared home, Rabscuttle could take it no longer. He turned on El-ahrairah, and snapped, 'Well, if you're so perfect, I guess you can just go on your next raid yourself! I've seen more gratitude from hraka than I've seen from you today!' With that, he left El-ahrairah behind and stormed off to his burrow, where he sat sulking.  
  
"El-ahrairah returned to his burrow as well, also sulking. Linnet noticed immediately that something was wrong and asked her mate to share his trouble. 'It's that Rabscuttle,' growled El-ahrairah, 'Not only is he incompetent, but he is insubordinate as well! I've a good mind to dismiss him as my Owsla Captain!'  
  
"Linnet was taken aback by this unusual display of rage, unusual especially since it was directed at Rabscuttle, his loyal friend. She calmed him down by nuzzling him, and telling him of one of his son's accomplishments that day. 'Ash defeated a stoat all by himself today - and saved one of the young does in the process.'  
  
"El-ahrairah relaxed a little and replied, 'Ah, yes, Ash. He's going to be an Owsla legend some day. Perhaps he could replace Rabscuttle.'  
  
"Linnet nuzzled El-ahrairah more sharply than usual and said, 'Please tell me what happened, dear.'  
  
"As El-ahrairah recounted the elil-alarm incident, despite the fact that he told the tale in such a way to make Rabscuttle seem as foolish and as incompetent as possible, Linnet saw through his slant to the story. 'Well, don't you think you've blown this out of proportion? I mean, no rabbit is perfect, dear. Don't you want Rabscuttle to be alert when you are on raids? What if there had been elil, and Rabscuttle had hesitated lest he be wrong in his judgment? Then where would you be? Inside the stomach of a homba, perhaps? I think you owe somebody an apology, dear.'  
  
"El-ahrairah was silent. Linnet had a way of helping him go from indignant to apologetic with just a few words. Still, after a moment, he protested, 'But, Linnet, he was so rude to me just now!'  
  
"Linnet wasn't taking the bait. 'And I suppose you did nothing to provoke him, right? Come on, dear, give me the whole story.'  
  
"El-ahrairah admitted, 'Well, I suppose I was a bit harsh on him. But there was no elil there, and he scared the wits out of me!'  
  
"Without missing a beat, Linnet offered, 'And a scared rabbit is a live rabbit, right? Honestly, dear, Rabscuttle was just doing his job, and you don't have the good sense to appreciate him as much as you should. I really must suggest the apology option, dear.'  
  
"El-ahrairah could see that he was not going to get Linnet to side with him against Rabscuttle, and anyway, he was already reconsidering his actions that day. After a few minutes of thinking it over and surprising himself by how much his guilt grew, he decided to pay Rabscuttle a visit. With a sincere apology, the whole matter was forgiven and forgotten, all thanks to Linnet's wisdom and level-headedness."  
  
Swather paused before continuing onto the next part of the story. He wondered again if this story could really help ease the warren's pain. This next part will be painful for them, but it's the last part that should pick them up, he thought, I'll have to trust my instinct. He went on:  
  
"After Linnet patched things up between the two friends, El-ahrairah's admiration for her grew, if that were possible. He was greatly anticipating their next litter of kittens, and thinking about what names to give them, and then one of the most mournful days in his life dawned.  
  
"There was suddenly a great commotion outside his burrow. He went out into the run and inquired as to what was happening. 'There's been a hawk attack, sir! It's got one of our does!' replied a harried Owsla buck. El- ahrairah immediately made his way towards the nearest exit with difficulty, as he had to push past numerous rabbits desperately trying to flee from the silf to the safety of the warren. El-ahrairah had the good sense to stay underground as well, but as Chief Rabbit of his warren, his need to assess the status of this crisis overrode his instinctive fear.  
  
"As he exited the burrows, he stopped a nervous doe and asked, 'Who is it? Tell me!' The doe merely replied that she didn't know and hurried inside. El-ahrairah was looking for another rabbit to ask when he was approached by a shivering kitten.  
  
"'Sir, I saw everything; it's so terrible!' sobbed the kitten.  
  
"El-ahrairah quickly asked, 'Who have we lost? Please! Tell me!'  
  
"The kitten wailed, 'She was trying to get away, but she couldn't run.'  
  
"El-ahrairah repeated as sharply as he dared to a kitten, 'Who was it? Tell me!'  
  
"At this point, another Owsla buck emerged from a nearby hole, saying, 'Sir, get in here! And the kitten too! That hawk is still in that tree over there!' The buck indicated a nearby tree with a nod of his head.  
  
"As the kitten scampered to safety, still in tears, El-ahrairah turned to the tree that had been pointed out, and saw the hawk on one of the upper branches. Draped over the branch next to it, and held down by one of the powerful sets of talons, was the bloodied body of a rabbit. As the hawk tore a piece of flesh from its meal with its razor beak, El-ahrairah looked more closely. His blood froze. It was Linnet."  
  
Swather heard renewed weeping from Flax' kin. Just hold on, the next part is to cheer you up, he thought. After a brief pause, he continued:  
  
"El-ahrairah's mind went blank, and an odd rushing sound filled his ears. He wasn't even aware that he was being dragged back into the burrow by two of his Owsla. When he came to his senses, all he could do was whisper, 'She was just here. I can't believe it. She has to come back.' repeatedly. He needed a whole day to recover from the shock, and never quite recovered from the grief.  
  
"El-ahrairah blamed himself for Linnet's death. 'I should've insisted she stay inside when she was so heavy with kittens,' he lamented, 'I should've known the danger of her being out on the silf in her condition. She couldn't run quickly enough. I could have brought her flay in our burrow.'  
  
"The other rabbits comforted El-ahrairah as they could, telling him that it wasn't his fault; that elil can strike anywhere, anytime. But his comfort mostly came not from their words, but rather from just having the other rabbits, especially his other mates, to talk to.  
  
"Some more days passed, and El-ahrairah decided to go alone to the highest hill in the area to discuss the situation with Frith. 'Oh, great Frith, hear my plea. Our enemies are too many and too great. We are miserable and afflicted, and our tears soak our burrows as we lose so many friends.'  
  
"After a pause, Frith answered, 'And what do you wish from me?'  
  
"'To make our enemies our friends again; that is my plea.'  
  
"Frith sternly replied, 'The reason that you have enemies is because your people took all of the world's food for yourselves at the beginning. Do you not remember? Because the other animals couldn't find food for themselves anymore, they had to turn to your people as their food supply. That is why I gave them sharp teeth and a desire to kill your people; otherwise they would have perished, and even your own people would have died from starvation, with uncontrolled growth in number. There wouldn't have been found a blade of grass in all the world.'  
  
"El-ahrairah was silent at Frith's response. He knew that Frith was right, but he still had to come away with something from this meeting. 'Then all I ask for is a reprieve, just some time without worry of losing my people to elil.'  
  
"'And when such a period expires, would it not be all the worse for your people? Would they not lose their instincts, their cunning and tricks, and then be slaughtered?'  
  
"El-ahrairah grew desperate. 'Then, great Frith, just give us some friends from out of our enemies.'  
  
"To this Frith replied, 'But, El-ahrairah, you already have friends among some men.'  
  
"El-ahrairah pleaded even more desperately, 'And I know of them, kind Frith. But there is no true freedom for rabbits who are pets of men. Please, only some friends that will demand neither our flesh for food nor our freedom for friendship.'  
  
"Then Frith, finding this compromise acceptable, and admiring the determination of the prince rabbit, decided to show El-ahrairah that he was indeed merciful, such as he was at the time when he gave El-ahrairah's people the gifts of speed and cunning to escape their would-be predators. 'It will be done as you ask. I will count off a great number of seasons, and then one of your foes will be born as your friend. I will not tell you which of them, nor the time, nor the place. Just know this: Your promised friend will not seek to kill you; and so it will also be with their young. But, it will not be easy for them, for they will be persecuted by their peers for their ways. They may not survive or even find mates to have young. If none do survive, another great number of seasons must pass before another promised friend is born. How do you find this arrangement, El-ahrairah?'  
  
"El-ahrairah nodded, 'Thank you for your mercy, kind Frith. I will ask for no more on this matter.' And with that, El-ahrairah returned to his warren, content with the knowledge that someday, his people would have a promised friend."  
  
Swather, his story finished, waited in silence for a reaction. Oaktrunk, his voice somewhat hoarse, was the first to speak up. "That's a very nice story, Swather, but it doesn't do me much good. Flax is still gone, and nothing can change that."  
  
Another rabbit spoke up. "Only one friend every hrair seasons? I've never met any elil yet that didn't want me as its next meal. Surely, the time will not arrive in my lifetime."  
  
Swather defended the story, saying, "Remember, we are not told when or where, or even which of the elil it will be. But, believe it: someday, we will know our promised friend."  
  
"Thank you, Swather," replied Pearl, her voice noticeably soothed, "I will remember and cherish that story." With that, she, Tobacco, and Sapphire got up and returned to their burrows. Then, the rest of the crowd slowly dispersed. Finch remained, with Burdock now asleep beside her. Swather hoped that the story would indeed have a comforting effect upon the warren.  
  
Oaktrunk, however, was not comforted. After the story, he went to see General Hrairah, telling him that he was about to leave for Grotto Warren for a day or so, just to see what was happening. It was still some time before the next Rah meeting was to be held, so General Hrairah knew that Oaktrunk was just trying to get his mind off of his grief. "I suppose that you shouldn't really go alone, Oaktrunk," said Chief Hrairah, "but I won't stop you. I think some time alone may help you right now."  
  
"Yes, perhaps it will," said Oaktrunk wistfully, "Perhaps I'll find something to keep myself busy." With that, Oaktrunk made his way out of the burrows and towards Grotto, alone. It was a few hours until Frith-set.  
  
************ 


	5. Part 5

Part Five - Grotto's Woe  
  
"The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side." Luke 19:43, NIV  
  
George Castles was a farmer in his mind, but definitely not to anyone else. He only occasionally visited his latest acquisition, a farm that was purchased a few months before, to see how his tenant, the actual farmer, was doing with his crop. He preferred staying in the upscale fifty-room mansion that his oil tycoon father, Jim Castles, had bought him in the countryside west of London. Despite the size of his home, George lived alone, with the exception of the cleaning and cooking staff that he had hired to look after the mansion for him. However, his staff were only allowed to be there to work, and went to their own homes at night - George wouldn't allow any "common folk" to live at his precious estate.  
  
George had never really had what most people would refer to as a real job; rather, he would just borrow money from his father to buy into whatever investment opportunity fancied him at the time, then hope that the value of his investment would rise. If it did rise, he would immediately sell out his share and quickly spend the profit on the proverbial wine, women, and song. If it fell, even over the short term, he would give up and also sell out, begging more money from his father to cover the loss. And in either case, he would then borrow still more for another investment and repeat the whole cycle, with George never even bothering to ensure that he saved up money to fall back on.  
  
It was true that Jim Castles had spoiled his son almost beyond hope, however, his patience had long ago begun to wear thin. After George had bought his sizable farm, his father had warned him that this was going to have to be how he made his living, as there was going to be no more money forthcoming. George brushed off the threat in his mind, as he couldn't imagine his dear old father ever refusing him.  
  
On this day, George was walking through his fields with his tenant farmer, Winston Conner, giving advice as to how he thought Winston could do a better job, despite the fact that dirt had never been under George's fingernails. Winston rolled his eyes as George suggested using a certain herbicide that he had read about in a farming magazine. George liked to think of himself an expert on all things, but failed to realize that the herbicide he mentioned was meant for a very specific type of crop, and would kill his current crop if used. Winston offered only, "I'll look into it, Mr. Castles," as a reply.  
  
George stopped and looked toward the woods at the edge of the field. He had seen a rabbit enter the trees and disappear from view. "Oh, wonderful," muttered George, "My fields are invested with vermin! Didn't you know about them?"  
  
"About what?" prompted Winston, who hadn't seen the rabbit.  
  
"That rabbit - I'll bet there's a million of the little pests in that forest."  
  
"Oh, them. Yep, I've seen them before, but not to worry. They don't really bother the crop. They mostly stick to the grass in the meadow where you're planning on putting your race horses this fall." Winston paused. "You don't think your father will actually let you buy those horses, do you? We were talking the other day and he assured me that he was quite serious about this farm being your last gift from him."  
  
"That's none of your bloody business!" snapped George quickly.  
  
Winston quickly shifted back to the former topic, "Anyway, the rabbits don't bother the garden, since it's in a cement-floored greenhouse, nice and safe," said Winston, gesturing to an immense structure, hundreds of feet long and half as wide, built to hold enough vegetables and fruit to give produce valued at about one hundred thousand pounds per year. That was in addition to the two thousand acres of cropland.  
  
"Don't tell me that you're not thinking of doing something about this," said George incredulously, "They'll multiply like, well... rabbits. They'll destroy my farm! Get rid of them!"  
  
"But, they've been here for years," persisted Winston, "even when Mrs. West owned the farm before you. I'm telling you, they're harmless."  
  
"Anyway, that's not important. I guess I'll have to see how I can get rid of those pests," said George, ignoring everything Winston had just said, "It'll give me something to do."  
  
The next day, George returned to inspect the "infested" area with Winston. Winston already knew where the warren was, but made no effort to help George find it, pretending to be searching as well. Finally, George spotted a group of holes, partly hidden by grass and bushes. "What's this? Do rabbits live in holes, Winston?"  
  
Winston nearly choked and resisted the temptation to say that he thought that they lived in the tops of trees, but instead replied very matter-of- factly, "Yes, Mr. Castles, I believe that they do."  
  
"So is this where they're living?"  
  
"I've no idea."  
  
"Don't you know anything?" huffed George. Looking down he pointed with a foot to some pellets in the grass, he added, "And what's that? Rabbit droppings?"  
  
Winston shrugged.  
  
Just then, two rabbit kittens emerged from a hole into plain sight. Shocked to see humans standing only a few feet away, they gave a squeal of fright. One of them, a buck, dove immediately back into the hole. The second, though, a doe, went into shock and froze where she sat. George grabbed it by the scruff roughly and shook it at Winston.  
  
"I knew it," growled George, believing himself to be the world's greatest sleuth, "This is where they're living! Now, I can get started!"  
  
Run, rabbits, run, thought Winston. He knew who he was rooting for in this contest. "Say, Mr. Castles, do you have any use for that kitten there?"  
  
George was genuinely confused. "What kitten?"  
  
"The one that you're holding."  
  
"This is a rabbit, you daft fool!"  
  
Winston rolled his eyes. "Young rabbits are called kittens, as well."  
  
"Oh... Well, I suppose there's no need to keep it. I may as well step on its head right-"  
  
Winston's eyes went wide. "NO! Don't do that! Let me have it!"  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
"My niece's birthday is coming up! That kitten would make a perfect gift."  
  
"You're willing to pay a hundred pounds for this mangy pest?"  
  
Grumbling, Winston brought out his wallet and placed several bank notes into George's outstretched hand. George gave Winston the trembling young rabbit with his other hand.  
  
***  
  
"Marli! Marli! Help!" The breathless buck kitten sped down the run and into his burrow with such speed that it ran straight into his mother's side.  
  
"What is it, Bryony?" she answered, somewhat annoyed at being abruptly woken.  
  
"Man is here! Just outside! I saw them myself! And they've got Wren!"  
  
Just then, an Owsla buck entered the burrow from the run. "Where is that kitten?" he demanded.  
  
"I'm right here," mumbled the shivering kitten.  
  
"Don't you know any better than to go out on the silf when there is an alarm of humans nearby? You could have been killed!" The buck then sensed that the mother was present and offered, "Sorry, Murrelet."  
  
"Oh, Bryony, you didn't" scolded his mother, regaining her breath, "Wren! Hornbeam, men have my Wren!" At this, the Owsla buck left, hurrying to relay the news to Walnut-rah.  
  
"But I wanted to see what a human looked like," said Bryony meekly, adding in tears, "It's all my fault!".  
  
Murrelet nuzzled the sobbing kitten, cooing, "Oh, Bryony, don't cry, we'll find her." She knew herself that Wren was lost forever. She held her tears to help calm her distraught son, now her only remaining kitten.  
  
***  
  
"What are you going to do, Mr. Castles?" asked Winston, holding the whimpering rabbit.  
  
"Well, you know that rifle that I've wanted to try out?"  
  
"Are you referring to the unregistered one that you bought from that underground pawn shop?"  
  
George sneered. "Don't pretend that you'll tell the bobbies. You'd be the one to get into trouble. I'd just tell them that it's your gun; who do you suppose they'd believe?"  
  
Winston was taken aback. "No need to be so defensive, Mr. Castles. I'm not saying anything to anyone."  
  
"I thought so. I'm going to have myself some target practice. See you tomorrow, Winston," said George as he made his way to his forty-foot jet- black limousine. After opening and closing the door for his employer, the smartly-dressed chauffeur, who was addressed by the name of Ken by George, got back in the vehicle and drove slowly off.  
  
After George was out of sight, Winston thought about how he could possibly get the rabbits out of danger. It was partially out of pity for the animals, but mostly because he just wanted to deny his annoying landlord his opportunity to play soldier. Unfortunately, there was no way to move a warren of rabbits in one night. The Grottons would have to hope that George was a bad shot.  
  
***  
  
Beet was out on the silf alone at first light. The Grotton Owsla Captain wanted to ensure that the men that had threatened the warren the day before were indeed gone before anyone else ventured out. The distinct scent of man was still in the air, but there was no visible signs anywhere.  
  
He climbed a rock and stood up on his hind legs to get a panoramic view of the meadow and the farm. Suddenly, a glint in the distance caught his eye. Beet froze, and focused on what he had seen, while perking up his ears. Immediately after this, a searing pain unlike any he had felt before racked his left ear. At that moment, a loud crack of thunder was heard; however, he didn't consider how it was strange that the sun was shining brightly, with no cloud anywhere. He tumbled backward, squealing and grabbing at his ear. Already, he was covered in blood. Beet crawled in agony to the nearest hole and inside, trailing large drops of blood behind him.  
  
***  
  
"Really, Mr. Castles, this isn't necessary. The rabbits aren't harming anything."  
  
George looked up from his rifle, which was placed on a fence railing, enabling him to shoot standing up, while maintaining a firm grip on the weapon. "That's the trouble with you, Winston. You're irresponsible. Any farmer should want to get rid of any pests. If it was up to you, there'd be a rabbit for every square foot. They're not pets, Winston - they're pests." George turned his attention back to his line of sight. He had seen a rabbit in the distance, perhaps five hundred feet distant. When he again focused on the area, the rabbit was no longer to be seen. Winston cursed. "Now you've made me lose my target, you idiot!"  
  
Oh, shucks, what a bleeding shame, thought Winston, who replied, "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'm sure it's still out there." Just then, a rabbit, probably the same one, appeared standing on a rock. George trained the crosshairs on the rabbit's head, waited a moment, and pulled the trigger. The loud report shocked George, and the kickback from the gun also caught him off guard. He cursed loudly again, nursing his bruised shoulder. Despite George's trying to act like an experienced marksman, it was obvious to Winston that this may actually be the first time that he had fired this particular weapon - or possibly any weapon at all. That was made even more obvious by the fact that the target was still alive. Winston had seen it fall, but had heard its squeals. George had made the error of pulling back on the gun when he fired, causing him to shoot high.  
  
***  
  
Beet, his squeals of pain terrifying the warren, tried to find his way to his burrow, but in pain and confusion, he lost his way, and just stopped and stood in the darkness, in the middle of a run. Fawn came out of a nearby burrow belonging to herself and Restharrow, where they had rapidly growing kittens. "Beet! What's happened?"  
  
"My ear! My ear! Bleeding! Hurts!" panted Beet.  
  
The doe felt his ears with her paw, and then found the wound about halfway up his left ear, wet with warm blood. "Your ear has a hole in it, Beet!"  
  
At this, Restharrow also emerged from the burrow. "A hole in his ear? Great Frith! How is that possible?"  
  
"A gun, Restharrow," replied Fawn, "Didn't you hear it just now? I've seen man use them before, and they create wounds just like this. He's lucky it's his ear, and not somewhere else..."  
  
Beet was now growing dizzy from his wound, and stumbled against Fawn. "Beet," soothed Fawn, "Take it easy. Here, lie down in our burrow."  
  
"I've got to see Walnut-rah about this," said Restharrow, "Fawn, can you take care of Beet?"  
  
"Yes, dear. I'm sure Walnut-rah's wondering what's happened along with the rest of the warren. And tell Pipit to come, please." Fawn knew that Beet would want his mate with him right now.  
  
***  
  
George was still nursing his shoulder. "Well, at least I got it! Right in the head!"  
  
"You hit it, but it's still alive."  
  
"Didn't you hear the vermin squealing?"  
  
"If it was dead, it wouldn't have squealed."  
  
George failed to the hole in his logic that Winston was trying to point out. "Nonsense, Winston. Come, I'll show you."  
  
When the men got to the rock where the rabbit had been, the fresh blood was the focus of George's attention. "See! Blood!"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Castles. But, no body. It crawled away; you've only wounded it."  
  
George's enthusiastic joy dimmed as reality dawned on him. "Well, I suppose you're right," he said, following the blood with his eyes to a nearby hole, "This may be the fun way of getting rid of them, but it's going to take forever. I suppose I'll have to use a different method - a more efficient one."  
  
Uh-oh, thought Winston, wincing.  
  
"I'm going to ring my exterminators - they will know what to do," continued George. Then, his work at the farm done, he left in his limousine.  
  
Winston looked up at the sky. The heat and humidity had been unusually high for the past few days. There were telltale rings around the sun. Looks like a storm in a day or two, thought Winston, The weather's like Mr. Castles, sometimes. The pressure builds until something breaks.  
  
***  
  
"Good day. My name is George Castles... Yes, I'm him... Well, you should know me, I only send heaven only knows how much business your way. Anyway, I've got a problem at my farm... Rabbits... Oh, I don't know, perhaps a hundred? How many usually live together?... I see. What do you suggest?... Ah! That should work! Lovely! How much does that cost?... Not a problem. When can you send out a crew? Tomorrow?... Booked up! But the rabbits are destroying my crop!... Oh, very well, let's go with Wednesday. But, rabbits can do a lot of damage in two days, lady... I see. Thank you very much, then. Wednesday at four p.m. will do nicely... I'll fax you the directions to the farm, it's easier that way... Yes, thank you, and good day." George hung up the telephone. "Gassing! This will get those little rascals for sure! I'm a genius!"  
  
************ 


	6. Part 6

Part Six - Oaktrunk's Journey  
  
"O Lord my God, I take refuge in you; save and deliver me from all who pursue me, or they will tear me like a lion and rip me to pieces with no one to rescue me." Psalm 7:1-2, NIV  
  
Normally, it would take only a few hours to travel between Cloudtree and Grotto. However, due to his dejected state, Oaktrunk was not quite at Grotto yet as it was getting dark. Although he was close to his destination, he decided to find shelter and rest before proceeding, since he thought a good night's sleep might help him recover more before meeting with the other warren.  
  
After spending the night in a temporary burrow near Grotto, Oaktrunk awoke early and continued on his way. He did feel a bit better, though he still had to try to take his mind off of the tragedy that had befallen Flax. However, he only had limited success, as his thoughts jumped back to yet another tragedy - the death of Flax' father, Poplar, as well as the former Chief, Ivy-Rah.  
  
***  
  
They had thought the battle with Cypress to be over. Cypress' attack force had been destroyed; Ivy's Owsla had been victorious. In the aftermath, Chief Ivy, Oaktrunk, General Hrair, and Poplar had been walking along a lonely path, to be by themselves and discuss a new peaceful existence with Grotto now that Cypress was defeated.  
  
But Cypress wasn't yet finished. The four rabbits were ambushed by Cypress and his loyal ruffian, Cornel. Poplar had intercepted Cypress' rush for Ivy, after which Cypress then turned on him and slashed him in the throat with his claws. When General Hrair had tried to attack Cypress and help Poplar, Cornel tackled him and delivered a sickening cuff that snapped back his head. General Hrair was knocked senseless and Cornel had leapt on him, trying to tear out his throat with his teeth. Oaktrunk had seen enough, and tackled Cornel from off of the helpless General Hrair. Simultaneously, Chief Ivy had attacked Chief Cypress. While Oaktrunk desperately clawed, kicked, and gouged at Cornel, Ivy was doing the same with Cypress.  
  
Finally, Oaktrunk had found the break that he was looking for - a razor- sharp root tip sticking out of the leaf-covered forest floor by perhaps four inches. He managed to break off with Cornel, knowing that this implied that he was preparing to flee - although that was the last thing on his mind. His strategy worked. As Oaktrunk positioned himself in front of the root's point, Cornel, who wasn't about to let Oaktrunk escape, leapt at him in rage. Oaktrunk quickly turned to the side, and as Cornel landed over the sharp point, Oaktrunk leapt on top of the unsuspecting Cornel, whose paws buckled under the weight. As Cornel collapsed, the root's tip was driven into his chest, perforating one of his lungs and his aorta.  
  
The fight was over. Cornel gasped for breath in vain and coughed up bloody foam that also oozed from the fatal wound. He managed to crawl only a few feet before collapsing for the last time. Within a minute, he had stopped running.  
  
With his enemy vanquished, the bloodied Oaktrunk turned his attention to help Ivy in his battle with Cypress. However, he had been so involved in his struggle with Cornel that he hadn't noticed the other fight end some time before. Both combatants were lying on the ground - Cypress was almost certainly dead, given the blood pooled around his torn throat, but Ivy was still breathing - although weakly.  
  
Oaktrunk guessed as to what had happened. Ivy's belly had been grotesquely torn wide open, probably the work of one or more desperate slashes from the claws of Cypress' powerful hind feet. His wound was not survivable, but somehow Ivy had managed to maintain a grip on Cypress' throat until his rival was dead.  
  
"Ivy-rah! You can make it," lied Oaktrunk, "Just rest."  
  
"I'm no longer your Rah, Oaktrunk," whispered Ivy, "advise Crowberry as to his duties." Ivy was referring to his eldest son, who would be the new Rah, according to tradition. Of course, Crowberry would turn over the position of Chief immediately to General Hrair, a decision warmly approved by the entire warren, and which would not have been argued against by Ivy.  
  
"No, Ivy-rah. You'll be fine, just-"  
  
"It's all right, Oaktrunk. I'm not frightened in the least. We will have peace now - you, here, and myself, in El-ahrairah's Owsla." With a smile, Ivy's closed his eyes and was still. Oaktrunk closed his eyes tightly, and, after pausing in honour of Ivy for a minute, turned his attention to his other two friends.  
  
General Hrair was nearest. Though unconscious from Cornel's violent cuff, Oaktrunk could see that he would survive. Then, he went to where Poplar was lying. His eyes were half-open, but there was no light in them. The leaves under his body were matted with the blood that had pumped from his severed jugular vein. Pausing to honour Poplar's bravery as well, Oaktrunk then went back and carefully dragged General Hrair to the warren, helped by two other of Ivy's Owsla that had now arrived on the scene. Though wracked with grief, Oaktrunk still managed to hold his emotions inside until General Hrair accepted the position of Chief when he finally awoke the next day.  
  
***  
  
Oaktrunk's mind snapped back to the present. He knew that he was now close to Grotto, but had been so absorbed in his memories that he failed to realize an alarming development: the strong scent of a homba in the air. Warily, he proceeded forward, his ears perked for any sudden noises. When he heard the rustle of something brushing through some nearby bushes, he was already so tense that he didn't bother to check what the source of the noise was, and bolted into a full run.  
  
Immediately, it was obvious that Oaktrunk's decision was the correct one, given the vicious snarling that was following him. It was unmistakably a famished homba, one that was determined on catching a meal. Oaktrunk bounded as quickly as his legs would allow him, dodging as close between the trees and thorn-ridden bushes as he could without knocking himself senseless or ripping himself open. The chase stayed at this pace for a full minute, with the homba not losing any noticeable ground. Oaktrunk used his knowledge of the area from previous visits to Grotto to his advantage. Finally, Oaktrunk heard the tell-tale gurgling of the river.  
  
On the near bank of the river was a steep, rocky bank. In the edge of the river was an amassed pile of broken-off rock that had tumbled down the steep, rocky bank in large chunks over the countless years. Oaktrunk was tiring, and didn't like his chancing of crossing the river more quickly than a desperate homba could. The rocks would have to serve as an escape.  
  
Oaktrunk leapt down to the pile of rocks, searching desperately for an opening between the rocks that would allow him entry, but not to anything larger than himself. The very first hole he tried would have to be the right size as well as be deep enough to allow him to escape the claws and teeth of his pursuer; there was no time for trial and error now. He spotted just above the water line a crack in one of the stone slabs that had fallen and embedded itself in the mud of the river bank. The fissure tapered closed at the top, but appeared to be wide enough for him at the bottom. With no time to spare, he squeezed into the opening and crawled into the narrowing tunnel as far as he could go - which was no more than four feet before he became wedged in. He had no room to even turn around; so he stayed facing the darkness, unable to see the murderous eyes of his would-be killer.  
  
The snarling homba reached Oaktrunk's refuge instantly, and thrust his sharp front claws in as far as the rock would allow. With Oaktrunk pressing himself as far in as was possible, the homba's longing claws met only air, rock, and soft mud. The homba then began digging down into the moist earth in an effort to undermine the rock and reach Oaktrunk from below. The thick mud proved little resistance for the homba's razor claws, but the rock had embedded itself into the ground, thus necessitating a deeper excavation, which began filling with water. Within a few minutes, however, the now-soaked homba had managed to dig under the rock, and was slowly nosing his way from below towards the petrified Oaktrunk. "You could make things easier on yourself," the homba growled, "Just come here. I'll make it quick; I promise."  
  
Oaktrunk did not reply, closing his eyes tightly. So this is what Flax went through, thought Oaktrunk, I wonder how much those teeth really do hurt? He then gave a squeal of pain as a claw scratched his back leg. He pulled himself into an even tighter ball. The smell of the homba was overpowering now; and Oaktrunk's pulse was so rapid that his heart threatened to burst. Good bye, friends. I was honoured to know you, he thought, Oh, will they know what became of me? Just as he again felt the claws touch his trailing hind feet, he heard a commotion outside, muffled by the surrounding rock.  
  
It was another homba, a vixen he could tell, and she seemed to be quite upset. "Get out! Get out! They're coming!" she cried desperately. Oaktrunk's pursuer stopped his digging and backed his way outside.  
  
"Who are you? Who's coming?" the homba said, not making any effort to hide his annoyance at the interruption.  
  
"Man! Man is coming, and they have guns! They've killed my family and they're after me; they know I've gone this way, and it's only a matter of time..." She looked nervously over her shoulder, continuing, "They'll kill any fox they find! We've got to cross the riv-" Just then, the loud report of a gun could be heard. Both hombil froze for an instant, then they bolted across the river and into the forest on the other side.  
  
Oaktrunk had overheard the foxes' conversation and then the gunshot. Still petrified from his near-death experience, he stayed in his shelter, listening to his heart racing, although it was gradually slowing. Then, carefully, he extricated himself from the rock, backing slowly out and into the fresh air. There was no sign of the hombil.  
  
***  
  
While Beet was recovering from his gunshot wound, Restharrow was asked to stand in as the temporary Owsla Captain. Restharrow flinched at the idea, since he had not been in the Owsla since Cypress' rule, but he accepted, as it was a personal request of Beet's. No one else in the warren had any argument to the idea.  
  
He was presently one of only a few rabbits out on the silf, and he was busy watching two men in the distance who were looking towards the warren. They appeared to be talking, then one of them handed a long stick to the other. The one in possession of the stick pointed it in Restharrow's direction. Just then, a loud crack sounded and dirt and leaves flew into the air ten feet to his right side.  
  
Immediately, all of the rabbits bolted into the warren. Restharrow was tharn for just a few seconds, an easy target for the man if he chose to use the gun again. However, the man made no sign that he was about to fire a second time. Restharrow's senses returned, and he bolted into the nearest hole to join his friends.  
  
***  
  
"Honestly, Mr. Castles, I tried to hit it. I'm just not as good a shot as you. Or else it's just too early in the morning."  
  
"Winston, it was only half as far away as the one I shot yesterday. Who are you trying to fool? And now, look, the rabbits are all gone. They'll be underground for the rest of the day!"  
  
Oh, shucks, that's too bad, thought Winston, hiding a smirk. Perhaps his volunteering to shoot the first rabbit had saved at least one of them. But, his smirk became a frown at his landlord's next comments.  
  
"No matter, Winston, the exterminators will finish off these pests tomorrow. Now, come, I've got some ideas I want to go over with you pertaining to maximizing the efficiency of the coming harvest..."  
  
Winston groaned inwardly as the two men made their way to the farmhouse.  
  
***  
  
As Oaktrunk sat trembling by his now dug out and partially exposed shelter, he noticed the vixen returning from the woods on the far side of the river. She was laughing to herself, "Hoo boy! That dunce is probably halfway to the Great Sea by now. What luck with that gun! Couldn't have timed it better if I tried!"  
  
Oaktrunk froze. If there were no hunters after foxes, then why did she- Oh, NO! She's scared off the other homba so she can kill me herself! He felt a morbid admiration for her cunning. Oaktrunk dove back into his now- exposed shelter, digging desperately and vainly at the mud to get further into the too-narrow crack in the rock. He stopped digging and sank into the mud as he heard the vixen speaking softly behind him.  
  
"Don't be alarmed. It's not what you think."  
  
Stop playing games and just get it over with, Oaktrunk thought grimly, Just kill me and end this torture.  
  
************ 


	7. Part 7

Part Seven - Mara  
  
"See how my enemies have increased and how fiercely they hate me!" Psalm 25:19, NIV  
  
Mara was born to the vixen Fera and her mate Pratt two years prior to Mr. Castles' assault on Grotto. She was the only vixen in her litter - it was Fera and Pratt's third - and she had three brothers: Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde. While the cubs were nursing, no one could tell that she would be different. That didn't become obvious until her parents began bringing her and her brothers meat - especially rabbits. Mara would have nothing to do with this, preferring instead to feed only on berries and insects, whereas these normally just supplement the diet of a fox. She tried to catch fish, although she was still too young to succeed with the exception of the odd one that was already weak from sickness or injury. At first, her parents and siblings thought of this as a minor "phase", but over time, it became a much greater concern.  
  
"That vixen is really getting on my nerves with her haughtiness," grumbled Pratt, "She doesn't in the least appreciate everything that we do for her, Fera.". The father was especially insulted since he was the one that did most of the hunting.  
  
"Perhaps it's just an early rebellious thing with her," replied Fera, still defending her daughter, "She doesn't mean to hurt anyone. She just wants to take care of herself."  
  
"Well she can't take care of herself, eating like that!" snapped Pratt, "She'll be skin and bones!" The truth was, although she was smaller than her brothers, Mara was not much thinner than the average vixen cub her age. Pratt stormed on, "And I won't have her treating her own young to a life like that! She's going to learn to live like a fox and like it, no questions!"  
  
"Dear, you can't force one to like things against their will. Just be patient. She will change with time by her own will."  
  
"Well, she'd better change, or I swear, I'll..."  
  
Fera shot her mate a glare that told Pratt that the topic was over.  
  
***  
  
As summer wore on, Pratt became increasingly flustered with his daughter, so much so that he began to enlist his three sons to help Mara "see the error of her ways". The father instructed Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde to make Mara's life miserable as they saw fit, and gave them ideas on how to go about it. The three were already quite impatient with their sister's eccentricity, and were glad to oblige.  
  
On one occasion, the three brothers caught and killed a young rabbit on their own. After eating most of the unfortunate rabbit, they carried its bloodied head and placed it right by the muzzle of their sleeping sister, positioning it so that its dead eyes were staring directly at her. When Mara eventually awoke, she yelped in terror and ran in tears from the family den. When Fera found out about this prank, she cornered her mate and three sons and began to scold them sharply about their cruelty.  
  
"Just leave poor Mara alone! If I ever hear of you doing something like this again, I'll give you all a mauling you'll never forget!" Her voice softened only a little as she added, "Look, I don't agree with her views on diet either, and I'd dearly love to see her hunting with the rest of you. But, please, give her time to make up her own mind. You'll only make her even less likely to see our way by doing stupid things like this. You may say you're trying to help, but I think you're just enjoying being cruel. If you really want to help, leave her alone!"  
  
Jerin looked down and mumbled, "Sorry, mother. Maybe she'll be fine with fish. She's getting better at catching them."  
  
"Fish!" spat Pratt, "That's not healthy! She needs to hunt like us!"  
  
Fera jumped on Jerin's earlier comment, "That's the spirit, Jerin. You must be supportive, not destructive." She then gave a cold stare to Pratt, who instantly looked away. She continued, "Now, this is settled. Agreed?"  
  
Her sons unanimously agreed, while Pratt snorted, but finally sighed, "Fine."  
  
While Pratt stayed in the den brooding, Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde went looking for Mara and found her weeping by a nearby stream. Hyde was the one who spoke first, offering, "Mara, that was uncalled for on our part. We're sorry, and we promise - it will never happen again." Mara simply looked away.  
  
Jerin went next, "Mother set us straight, believe me. You're fine with us just the way you are. You can stick to fishing if you want to. Please come back to the den; Mother's worried." He made a note to not mention how their father felt.  
  
Mara, still looking away, replied to this, "But you'll still hunt my friends. Why should I come back?" Her brothers looked at each other. Friends? they thought simultaneously.  
  
Pesco, incredulous, asked, "You've got friends among rabbits?"  
  
Mara sighed, "Well, no, obviously they want nothing to do with me." However, she had spent enough time hiding within earshot of rabbits to pick up their unique language far sooner than most foxes would have cared to.  
  
Pesco wanted badly to tell her not to worry about it; that she would one day be hunting them like a normal fox, but remembered his mother's words and said, "It's all right, Mara. I say to each their own. Please come back. You're too young to leave just yet."  
  
"Who are you kidding? I've practically been on my own since I started feeding myself."  
  
Jerin jumped back into the conversation. "Mara, of course you can feed yourself just fine. So can we. But who will protect you? Where will you find a den? Please! Come with us."  
  
Seeing reason in Jerin's logic, Mara turned to look at them, then looked down at the ground. "Just promise you'll never do anything like that again," she whispered.  
  
***  
  
It was now early autumn, and Pesco and Hyde were returning to a nearby farm where they had managed to easily corner some of the multitude of mice near a row of granaries over the summer. It seemed an innocent enough venture. However, unbeknownst to the foxes, the farmer was now trying to rid himself of the mice.  
  
When they arrived at the granary row, they noticed the unscathed bodies of a number of mice lying on the ground. Without thinking twice, they gulped down the easy snacks, but were unable to find any living mice at all in the area - only a few more dead ones. Having had their fill anyway, they decided to head back to their den.  
  
Within an hour of returning, after mentioning their easy meal to the rest of their family, Pesco and Hyde both became unusually tired. Thinking that they had just had a long journey, Fera suggested that they get some rest. They had no trouble at all falling asleep. However, when Fera checked on them an hour later, she yelped in shock. Both were not breathing.  
  
Pratt, hearing his mate's distress, immediately went over to see for himself. Putting his ear to their chests, the father noticed two other things: Pesco and Hyde had no pulse, and they were already cold. As the realization dawned on the family, they could only sit in open-mouthed shock, before the grief could set in.  
  
***  
  
The deaths of Pesco and Hyde embittered Mara's family greatly. Pratt's anger towards Mara was not healed in grief - rather, it grew worse. It was as if with the loss of two of his proud hunters, he became determined that both of his surviving cubs would make up for them. Mara's mother stopped defending her, perhaps too wrapped up in her own sorrow, or perhaps because she was having the same feelings that Pratt was. Mara's surviving brother Jerin could sense his father's increased expectations and tried to live up to them, going out on every hunting expedition that his father went on - sometimes five in one day. Mara would try to stay out of it, but the atmosphere became too intolerable. After waking from a restless sleep one night, she decided to leave her family for good.  
  
"Going somewhere?" Her father was blocking her exit from the den.  
  
"I'm going out to hunt, father. Ever since Pesco and Hyde died, I've been feeling more miserable about how I am. I think it's time to change."  
  
Pratt didn't buy into this, and called her bluff, saying, "Well, that's wonderful, Mara. Shall I accompany you and give you some advice?"  
  
"No, father, I need to do this myself. I'll bring everyone some breakfast by morning."  
  
Pratt smirked, "Fish?"  
  
"No, I'm going to find a rabbit."  
  
"And actually kill it, dear?" Pratt's tone was thickly condescending.  
  
"You'll see. Now, if you'll let me leave, I'd like to get started."  
  
Pratt stepped to the side, watching with narrowed eyes as Mara walked into the moonlit night.  
  
***  
  
After leaving her family's den for the last time and wandering for an hour, Mara became aware of occasional squeals in the distance. It was obviously an animal in distress. She dismissed the possibility of it being the unfortunate next meal of an unknown predator, as if that were the case, there would eventually have been silence. The squeals continued, and as she used them to get closer to the source, she also heard desperate scratching noises. Finally, she saw a wooden shack, one of several outbuildings of a farm, and it was from this which the distressed sounds emanated. She could now clearly tell that it was a rabbit that was inside the shack causing the commotion.  
  
Mara wondered if any other animals might have heard the noises and might be nearby. She saw no signs of other foxes or predators, and thought that perhaps the proximity to humans would be a deterrence to them. She felt an instinctive dread and keen wariness herself, but her curiosity and concern for the rabbit overruled her fear. Fortunately, there seemed to be no human activity, anyway - no lights, no voices, and no barking dogs. That wasn't entirely unusual, as sunrise was still a long way off. As Mara neared the shack, she realized that there was no obvious way in. She went around the base, and saw that the shack was raised up on two beams, so that a small enough animal could get under the building on either end. There was perhaps six inches of clearance, which was enough for Mara to crawl under.  
  
In the dim light, she could see the hind end of a rabbit hanging from a narrow opening in the floorboards. Only the head and front legs of the rabbit were above the floor. Its back legs lay twisted on the ground, and the dirt around them had been scratched away, leaving a small crater underneath. Blood from splinters along the edge of the opening in the floor matted its fur. Obviously, the rabbit had tried to get into the shack for some reason, then had become wedged into the hole, unable to go forwards or backwards.  
  
As Mara inched forward, she heard the petrified rabbit speaking. "Fritillary!" he cried, "There's a homba! I can smell it! It's right by me!" He began kicking in vain again, sending dirt into Mara's face. The rabbit cried in pain and ceased struggling.  
  
His mate replied, "Oh, Currant, I told you to not make so much noise!" Fritillary's voice was heavy with fear and grief. She nuzzled him, but he did not respond, as he was going tharn. "Oh, why did I ever want to get into this place," she sobbed, "This is all my fault..."  
  
Mara saw that the crack extended some way out from either side of the unfortunate buck, and she found that there was enough room to fit her narrow muzzle part-way through. She managed to get a grip on the edge of a board and started gnawing. After several minutes of chewing away the wood and getting painful splinters in her mouth, she had managed to widen the crack in one area right next to the trapped rabbit by about an inch. "All right, now try moving towards me. You should be able to squeeze through here." There was silence. Impatiently, Mara moved to the other side of Currant and began pushing him towards the wider gap. The buck still did not try to move, so Mara moved away and waited.  
  
Finally, Currant regained enough sense to realize that he was still alive, and that the floorboards were no longer as constricting. He scrambled up easily into the shack. Mara couldn't tell if Currant's mate, who had watched in horror as Mara had chewed up the floorboards, was more confused or overjoyed.  
  
"Currant! Currant! How...?" Fritillary broke down into sobs.  
  
Currant slowly regained his senses. "The homba... Why...?" he whispered. He had once heard the same story that Swather had earlier told the Cloudtree rabbits. "Fritillary... the promised friends..."  
  
Fritillary's eyes grew wide. "Do you think that homba is a friend?" she whispered back.  
  
"Why did it do what it did just now?" asked Currant in a normal tone.  
  
During this, Mara was still waiting below the shed's floorboards. She was unfamiliar with lapine stories, and wouldn't have fathomed what they were talking about, even if she had heard the rabbits' whispering. But she did hear Currant's question. "I did it because I see you as friends, not prey. I don't know why, it's just the way I feel. And believe you me, you're very lucky because I must be the only one."  
  
At these words, the rabbits knew. However, still somewhat nervous given their powerful danger instinct, they peered through the floor. "Thank you, friend." said Currant.  
  
"Glad to help. I guess I'll be going now."  
  
"No, wait!" Both rabbits then squeezed through the floorboards and followed Mara out from under the shed. "Don't leave! Who are you? Are you a promised friend?" cried Currant.  
  
Just then, a dark form rushed from around the corner and grabbed Currant by the neck. "Hello, Mara. Nice to see you've invited your friends to our breakfast. You were bringing them home, weren't you?" Her father's eyes flashed anger and mockery as he dropped Currant and pinned him under his claws. Mara gaped in horror and Fritillary squealed as she dove back under the shed. Currant's mouth opened and closed, and he emitted a rasping noise as he struggled for breath, his throat punctured.  
  
"Father..." Mara began, backing away.  
  
"I knew you would never change! Friends, indeed! You want to see what rabbits are meant for?" Pratt quickly delivered a crushing bite to Currant's head.  
  
Mara was sickened by the crunch, and turned and fled once more. Her father's voice followed her loudly, "You'll never make it, Mara! You're as good as dead! Good riddance!" And then, the parting shot, delivered with a laugh, "And thanks for breakfast, ha! ha!"  
  
Mara's tears burned in her eyes as she ran on.  
  
***  
  
After she had travelled for some distance and was satisfied that her father was not tracking her again, Mara found a dense hedgerow and settled in for a few hours of much-needed sleep. She didn't know whether the stress of the night's events would keep her awake or not, however she did manage to fall asleep quickly enough. Her sleep was rather fitful, though, fraught with nightmares of her parents and three brothers killing rabbits which she was trying in vain to save. She was not surprised in her dreams to see that even her two deceased brothers were present. She saw Currant in her father's jaws, staring at her in horror and accusation, silently mouthing the words, "You've betrayed us," until he was torn to pieces.  
  
When she awoke again after sunrise, she had to shake a strong unsettled feeling out of her, but a strong sense of guilt remained. Mara decided to make her way back to the shed where Fritillary had been, hoping against hope that she was still there, so at least she could explain everything to the undoubtedly bereaved doe. She feared that her father would have managed to break in and kill her, too. Then, Fritillary would no doubt have died thinking that Mara was no more than a treacherous liar. It was bad enough that Currant may have thought that, but she had to at least try to explain to the widowed doe.  
  
As Mara neared the farm again, she warily watched the farmhands walking about, keeping close to the ground and advancing a few steps only when she was not in any man's line of sight. After a few minutes, she was at the base of the shed. Ruefully noting Currant's blood on the ground, she crawled silently under the floorboards, listening and sniffing to sense if Fritillary was indeed there.  
  
With a sigh of relief, she saw that her father had not tried to break in. The floorboards were still as she had left them - the crack with the gnawed- down portion had no sign of further wear. So, Fritillary would be safe - if she had indeed stayed inside the shed until after Mara's father had left. However, it was obvious that the rabbit was not in the shed anymore. Mara slipped back out from under the shed, and this time was noticed by one of the farmhands, who promptly shouted to one of his workmates and pointed.  
  
"There! That fox is back!"  
  
"What fox?"  
  
"The one that had a rabbit trapped in the tool shed last night. Mr. Elliot said it made such a ruckus trying to get into the door, scratching and snarling and the like, that it woke up Judy, and her barking woke up EVERYBODY."  
  
"Oh yeah, he was mentioning something about a rude awakening. What'd he do?"  
  
"Said he scared it off and decided to keep the rabbit as a pet for his kids."  
  
"Aw, sweet. Wasn't hurt much, was it?"  
  
"Nah, that fox didn't manage to get into the shed, so not a scratch. Just scared so stiff that Mr. Elliot was able to pick it right up. He saw a dead one out here, though. Probably its mate. He said he buried it by the garden."  
  
"Well, looks like that fox just took off again. Probably won't be back this time."  
  
"Hope not. But we'd better keep them hens locked up in the barn real good for a week just in case. Haven't seen many foxes around since I've been working here, and prefer to keep it that way.."  
  
"I wonder if it knows about the hens, even? Maybe it was just after the rabbit in the shed."  
  
"Probably, but nevertheless..."  
  
"Right."  
  
************ 


	8. Part 8

Part Eight - Lane  
  
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud." 1 Corinthians 13:4, NIV  
  
Without knowing the fate of Fritillary, Mara never returned to that farm. She travelled as long as she dared, then found an area to wander alone, keeping clear of other foxes and foraging on fruits, grubs, and fish. Fortunately, she had gained quite an excellent fishing ability, and there was no shortage of that food supply. This wouldn't be so bad, she convinced herself.  
  
As autumn turned to winter, the relatively mild (but rainy) climate of southern England kept the rivers from freezing over, and significant snow was rare. With the food situation taking care of itself, another situation arose. She found herself longing for a mate and family, but dared not pursue this, given that there was no possibility of finding a dog fox who would tolerate her not hunting, or even accepting rabbit meat given to her. She became quite miserable from denying her instinct.  
  
After spending some time in this state, as she was wandering the shallow edge of a river in search for her next meal, she was approached by a swaggering dog fox. "I've seen you around for so long, and just had to meet you. If I were to catch you a nice, fresh rabbit, would it follow that we could find ourselves a den and perhaps start our family? I've got a line of vixens after me, so you'd better say yes. I'm Lane, by the way."  
  
Mara closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then eyeing Lane with the most hostile glare she could produce, she set her teeth and growled her reply, "If you want to impress me, catching a rabbit is the last thing you should do. Now go away."  
  
Her would-be suitor stared at her quizzically. "What did you say?"  
  
"You heard me. Get lost."  
  
Now, this was new. Truthfully, Lane had no vixens after him. They had already all found their mates; none of them had wanted him as the family provider. His hunting skills were on par with a week-old cub, as his own mother once put it. His first attempt at a kill while growing up was on a rabbit kitten, which had promptly turned and bit him on the muzzle. He had yelped in pain, turned and run, much to the amusement of his siblings and very much to the consternation of his father. The kitten had managed to remove quite a piece of flesh, and it had taken some time for the bleeding to stop.  
  
Ever since that first meeting with rabbits, he had been rather timid when he needed to have a killer instinct. Always expecting his prey to attack him, Lane would only chase them, and not try to go near enough to get bitten again. Even the rabbits grew to know him, and he became the subject of many of their lapine jokes.  
  
Lane's reputation as an inept hunter had spread, and thus, when he had finally gathered the courage to meet the vixen that was known for being a loner, he had hoped that she would not have heard of him, and he would be able to have a family, after all. But her response caught him completely off-guard.  
  
"You don't want me to catch rabbits?"  
  
"By George, I think you've got it," Mara said with every ounce of sarcasm that she could scrape up, "But there's one thing, Lane, which you didn't get."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"You're still here. I told you to scram."  
  
"No, you didn't. You told me to get lost." Lane wasn't trying to be entirely disrespectful; he was hoping that what this enigmatic vixen was being honest about her feelings on rabbits. If she didn't want him to catch rabbits, for goodness only knows what reason, then this is the miracle that he was waiting for. Unless, she did know of his reputation, and was just slyly trying to get him to admit it and brush him off as cruelly as possible. He went on hopefully, "Pray, tell, what should I catch to impress you?"  
  
Mara's patience was thinning. Somehow, she resisted the urge to cuff this pompous jerk and decided to go along with whatever game he was playing. "Fish," she replied, hoping that he would eventually just leave.  
  
Not wanting to look incapable of anything, Lane jumped into the belly-deep water, and after being momentarily stunned by the icy cold, gasped, "All right, now what?"  
  
"Catch one," said Mara, almost amused that Lane had actually gone this far. It wouldn't take long to get rid of him, now. After a few minutes of her suitor looking confused and helpless, she finished, "I thought so. You can stay here if you wish. Just don't follow me, unless you want another scar that will make the one on your nose look like nothing."  
  
Lane gulped and backed out of the water, watching the vixen leave without even knowing her name. He wouldn't dream of fighting another fox, even a vixen, given his already nervous disposition towards rabbits.  
  
***  
  
Just before sunset after getting rid of the pesky dog fox, Mara was approached by a vixen. "Greetings, traveller," she said, "I've seen you around, but have never met you. Come to think of it, everyone around here has seen you but never met you. You're deliberately avoiding us, aren't you?"  
  
"Well, given that dog fox I met today, I think I've made the right choice."  
  
"I saw you two at the river. That was Lane you met. Bad news, believe me."  
  
"Yes, Lane, he was all to eager to introduce himself."  
  
The other vixen nodded in understanding, "Desperate for a mate, no doubt? Winter's getting old; the season for that is almost over."  
  
"No luck for him. I'm in no need of a mate." The other vixen looked at her strangely, so Mara added, "Maybe next year."  
  
"Well next year, stay away from Lane, unless you want road-kill and human garbage as your dinner. He couldn't catch a blind three-legged rabbit." The vixen chuckled at her own joke.  
  
Mara pretended to laugh as well, but this had really piqued her interest. So, Lane was pretending to be a good hunter to impress her, and all along, he wasn't? She would have to find him again. This could be the answer to her longing for a family, if she played the situation correctly. "Thanks for the warning; I'll remember it."  
  
"My pleasure. May the rabbits find your stomach." The fox equivalent to, 'Have a good day' made Mara shiver internally. The other vixen continued, "By the way, that's another thing everyone has noticed. You only seem to eat berries and fish. Can you not catch rabbits, either?"  
  
Mara froze. The last thing she wanted was for the other foxes to know of her aversion to hunting rabbits. If Lane thought that he was an outcast, he hadn't seen anything yet, if word about Mara got out. Lane would seem absolutely normal then. "Uh... I just have a taste for fish, that's all. Just no reason to hunt rabbits. I could if I wanted to."  
  
The other vixen saw no reason to press the issue any further, so just gave Mara a quick nod and then left, without either fox learning the other's name.  
  
***  
  
"Lane? Can I have a word with you please?"  
  
"Oh! I wasn't following you! I swear it!" Lane jumped and turned around at Mara's question, backing away from her as she stepped towards him.  
  
"I know that, silly. I was looking for you. I wanted to ask you about your hunting skills."  
  
Lane held his breath. He'd been found out, if indeed this vixen didn't know the truth to start with. "Heh, um..."  
  
"A vixen just told me you couldn't catch a three-legged rabbit. Is that true?"  
  
Lane whispered a curse, and muttered, "Kate! She's always ruining my reputation ahead of me!"  
  
"Well, is it true?"  
  
Lane knew that all Mara had to do was ask him to catch a rabbit, and the ploy was finished. The only reason that he had promised to catch her a rabbit was because he had found a road-killed rabbit, and now even that had gone missing. "All right, so I'm not the best hunter! What do you want? I'm sorry I lied; you'll never see me again!" He turned and stormed off.  
  
"Lane!"  
  
He stopped, without looking back. "What?"  
  
"I'm Mara, by the way."  
  
Now Lane was confused. Why was she introducing herself before the final, mocking farewell? "Nice to have met you Mara; I'll be going now." He started off again.  
  
"There's something you should know!" she called after him.  
  
Lane stopped and turned around. He tried to imagine what Mara was going to say. That he was a cowardly liar? A pathetic example of a fox? "I think I get the drift, Mara."  
  
"Actually, Lane, I couldn't care less if you can't hunt rabbits. I actually prefer it that way. No, actually, I insist that it be that way. Especially if you want to be my mate."  
  
Lane searched her eyes. As far as he could tell, this was no joke. Mara was deadly serious. "Are you... Would you... Really?" he stammered.  
  
"Look, I know you're going to laugh, but I may as well take the chance. I don't hunt rabbits, either. Truthfully, I can't stand the concept of hunting them. They're my friends, you see."  
  
Lane internalized this. All right, he thought, everyone thinks I'm a freak because I can't hunt rabbits. Now, here's a vixen who won't hunt rabbits. Her friends, no less! Could it be? He spoke again, "Well, if you insist on it, then I guess I'm ahead on that point." He looked at her hopefully and added, "Maybe if I fish instead?"  
  
"Oh, I can teach you that, Lane."  
  
Lane paused for a minute. It was time to risk it. "May I ask if we could be mates?"  
  
***  
  
That spring, Mara and Lane were the proud parents of two young cubs - a dog fox (Tracks) and a vixen (Gina). Unfortunately, Tracks died for unknown reasons when only a week old. Gina, however, was as healthy as could be. She quickly picked up on the basics of fishing, which both of her parents were now quite well-versed in.  
  
As Gina learned to fish, Lane learned to appreciate Mara's view on hunting and rabbits. He eventually admitted to her that he had never managed to actually kill a rabbit, despite having tried numerous times, and how he had gotten the ugly scar on his nose. Mara had found that particular story quite amusing. Though Lane thought Mara strange at first, he eventually started to let go of his instinct on the hunting issue, especially since Mara probably thought of him as equally strange to start with. There was no doubt in either fox' mind that they were meant for each other.  
  
As spring turned to summer, Gina continued to grow healthily. She accepted her mother's view on rabbits without question. She even grew upset whenever rabbits would run squealing from her rather than talk to her. Mara explained that it was impossible to erase so much instinct so quickly and to just be satisfied with not hunting the rabbits. If an opportunity arose to help a rabbit, then that was not to be missed, however.  
  
The family's habits were quite noticed by the other foxes of the area. The true reason for their choice of meat wasn't suspected; it was assumed that neither parent could hunt normally, so fell back on fishing. "Well, looks like old Loser Lane found a match at last," said Kate, the ever-efficient fox gossip, to a group of her friends, "Birds of a feather, I tell you. Double trouble."  
  
"Well, Kate, as long as they don't bother anyone, it shouldn't concern us," replied one of the group.  
  
***  
  
As Gina's first and Mara's second summer came to a close, Gina let it be known that she wished to stay with the family for the time being, and would wait for another year to strike out on her own. Neither parent objected. The extra help would be welcome, in fact.  
  
That winter turned out to be quite severe, with frequent heavy snow and enough cold stretches to form significant ice on the slower-running rivers. With the extra energy needed to ward off the cold, it took all three foxes' fishing skills to avoid starvation, or at the very least, illness. Spring couldn't arrive soon enough for them.  
  
During one cold late winter day, only a month before Mara was due with her second litter, Lane decided to try an old tactic he used before meeting Mara to reinforce the family's food supply: garbage raiding. He knew of a nearby farm that had thrown out a large quantity of trash and decided on a night visit to rummage for edible food. Not wishing to wake Mara or Gina, he left quietly in hopes of having a good breakfast supplied for all.  
  
After a few minutes of foraging, Lane was making poor progress. He had found no sign of anything worth eating; it was mostly paper and other household waste. In his frustration, he dove even further into the pile, and upset a garbage can at the edge of the pile.  
  
The noise was deafening in the otherwise still night. Within seconds, a light went on in the house, and a human could be heard shouting. Lane made the error of ignoring this, and continued digging around in the pile, cursing, still finding nothing worth scavenging. He didn't notice that the man was now outside, hastily dressed in a robe and heavy coat and carrying something with both hands.  
  
***  
  
The sound of a single gunshot woke nearly every sleeping creature within a radius of at least a quarter mile. That included several human neighbours, and indeed, Mara and Gina as well. The two foxes immediately noticed Lane's absence, and looked at each other, with growing dread in their hearts.  
  
When Lane had not returned within two days, they knew that he would never come back. While they were both devastated, Mara knew that she would soon have another family to care for, and Gina knew that her help would be needed now more than ever.  
  
Mara's litter that spring was one dog fox (Mark) and one vixen (Carol), like the first. However, this time, both cubs survived early infancy. Despite the loss of Lane, the four foxes were getting along quite well, until a spate of cold spring rainstorms began.  
  
After perhaps the third night of a downpour, the hillside in which Mara and her family resided began to collapse. Fortunately, the telltale signs of an impending landslide were evident - water and mud dripping through new cracks in their den - and the foxes had already evacuated when the slide occurred. However, the family was now homeless in the cold, pouring rain. For hours, each vixen carried a cub in their mouths and searched for a suitable new home, or any place that was dry.  
  
They finally found one potential shelter just as it was getting dark. Mara let her cub down and decided to go first to make sure that it was uninhabited. As she looked in, she noticed that it wasn't empty. There were two rabbits inside - a buck and a kitten. The buck looked up in alarm, arose, and started forward, as if ready to bolt. However, instead of bounding for the door and past Mara, the buck collapsed and was still. Mara carefully went up to the rabbits and found to her relief that both were still alive. She went back outside and called to Mara, "Come quickly! Bring the cubs! You won't believe this!"  
  
************ 


	9. Part 9

Part Nine - Arum  
  
"My comfort in my suffering is this: your promise preserves my life." Psalm 119:50, NIV  
  
"Arum! The river is rising!"  
  
"Wonderful! Why won't this embleer rain stop?" grumbled Arum, looking outside. The river had risen suddenly in the last hour, and was now claiming the gently sloping, grassy bank in which their single burrow was dug. The two rabbits had chosen a more lonely lifestyle, rather than being in a warren, mostly for privacy reasons. Now, however, Arum wished that they were in a warren. Crises such as this one could be handled more efficiently with the support of other rabbits. Arum and his mate Mazarine had four tiny nursing kittens to carry to safety, as it was obvious that the river would eventually claim their burrow. They were forced into the difficult task of carrying two kittens each, holding them by the ears in their mouths. This was compounded by the fact that Arum had not been feeling well for the last two days.  
  
As the pair fought their way through the driving rain with their kittens, both parents would occasionally stumble and spill the mewling kittens into the mud. Arum faltered considerably more often than Mazarine as his strength began to fail, despite his hefty size. Both rabbits' spirits began to fall as no suitable shelter could be found. They also could hear the growls of elil in the woods on their side of the river, and these noises seemed to be closing in. When they finally found a way to cross the swelling river, they decided to take the chance.  
  
A tree's roots had been undermined; its collapsed trunk lay straight across the water, half-submerged. Muddy water was surging against the tree, and occasionally a burst of water would crest over the top. The tree would have washed downstream immediately, except that it had fallen across one of the narrower stretches of the river, and its upper boughs had tangled with well-rooted shrubbery on the opposite bank. There were enough roots left anchored in the bank to keep that end secure. Arum saw this and said to his mate, "Mazarine, I'm going to try to cross first. Stay right here and don't follow until I'm safely across. All right?" Mazarine nodded her understanding. Arum picked up his two kittens by their ears and carefully picked his way along and through the tangle of roots until he finally stood on the slippery bark of the trunk. With even greater care, analyzing each foothold before taking a step, Arum edged his way toward the other side.  
  
Just as he was getting to where the upper boughs branched out, he heard a squeal from the bank that he had just left. He turned and saw to his dismay that Mazarine was already trying to clamber towards him, with her two kittens dangling in her mouth. He wanted to yell to her to wait, but couldn't utter a sound while carrying the kittens. Something must have spooked her into chancing the daring crossing prematurely. It was then that more soil from around the base of the tree fell into the river, freeing more roots and causing the tree to suddenly shift and roll.  
  
Mazarine disappeared into the water, still clinging onto her kittens. Arum was also thrown, and clawed blindly for one of the branches, managing to catch one with his left front paw. He hung on desperately, with only his head and paw above the freezing and roiling water. He was helpless as one of his kittens was pulled from the grip of his teeth. Unable to feel grief at this desperate moment, Arum gripped the remaining kitten even more tightly and dug his right front claws into the branch serving as his lifeline. Using every ounce of his ebbing strength, he managed to pull himself half out of the water and onto the branch. He saw that he was only a few feet from the opposite bank, so he forced himself to grasp along the branch until at last he was lying beside it on the bank, clear of the water.  
  
Arum fought every urge to fall asleep right there; he got up again and began plodding up the bank and into the woods, searching for any shelter. His sickness had grown much worse, and this trek required every scrap of strength that he had. His mind was too clouded with exhaustion and shock to come to terms with losing his mate and three of his kittens. His determination to protect his remaining doe, Meadow, was all that drove him on. It was another hour before he found the elusive shelter.  
  
***  
  
As Arum slowly became aware again, he was in a confused dream state. He imagined that he was a kitten again, nuzzling his marli for warmth. He gave no thought to his kittens or Mazarine for the first few minutes. Then, his memory began to register. He remembered the river rising, crossing the fallen tree, slipping into the cold water, and knowing that his mate was gone, as well as all but one of his kittens. Then, he wondered where Meadow was. Next, he remembered seeing the homba and expecting death. He realized even more confusion as he knew that he was still alive. This last thought was complimented by the strong scent of a homba, and this brought him around to waking fully.  
  
Upon opening his eyes, Arum noticed that whatever his head was resting on was too large to be a rabbit. In the dim light, he couldn't make out the colouring, but the scent was unmistakable. Arum started and squealed, backing away quickly and slamming into the far side of the den. The homba that had served as his pillow woke and looked at him. Arum saw with dismay that this homba was lying between himself and the only exit from the den, which was seemingly a mile away. He caught sight of another homba stretched out along the side, which was now also awake. It was the second homba which spoke to Arum first.  
  
"Glad to see that you're awake. What's your name?"  
  
Arum stammered, his eyes darting between the hombil and the exit. There was no chance of escape, so it was best to play along. Why was he still alive, anyway? "Arum," he said simply.  
  
"Good to meet you, Arum. My name is Mara, and these two are Mark and Carol," she said, nodding to the two cubs who were nursing, then nodded to the other homba, "and that is my eldest, Gina - a year old." She then asked, "And I assume this is your daughter?"  
  
Mara was placing a paw on a rabbit kitten that was snuggled between the two fox cubs. Incredulously, Arum saw that it was Meadow - and that she was nursing, as well. Noticing the expression on Arum's face, Mara continued, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but I couldn't find any trace of your mate, and your kitten was crying for milk, so..."  
  
Arum was getting dizzy and lay back down. Gina got up and walked over to him. "Are you all right?" She put her nose to Arum's forehead and added, "Well, your fever is a lot lower. That's a good sign."  
  
Arum was only able to manage a confused string of incomprehensible babbling. He hadn't even considered when he had been searching for shelter while carrying Meadow how he would feed her with Mazarine gone. It would have been some time before she would have been able to eat solid food, and since there was no other food which she could take, she would have starved to death.  
  
In an effort to dispel some of Arum's obvious confusion and shock, Gina asked, "So is this your daughter? What is her name?"  
  
"Yes... Meadow."  
  
"Do you feel like eating anything right now? We've gathered some grass for you. Unfortunately, there's not much else this early in spring."  
  
"Uh-huh," said Arum, his eyes still somewhat glazed over.  
  
At this point, Mara spoke up again. "Take your time, Arum. There's no rush. Get some more sleep if you wish. It's all right. We'll explain everything in the morning."  
  
Nothing can explain this, thought Arum. He winced as a pounding headache redoubled its strength, and glanced again at the exit. Escape was unlikely. Maybe escape is unnecessary. I must've been here for some time and I'm still alive. For all I know, Meadow would be dead right now if not for them - maybe me, too. Maybe it's a miracle from Frith. Maybe these hombil really are friends. Arum froze as he remembered. He, too, had once heard that particular story as a kitten, before he had left his old warren with Mazarine. Oh, let it be. But, why me? Please let it be. He drifted back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
When Arum woke again, his illness had all but vanished - his fever was gone and his headache was almost unnoticeable. Although the misery of sickness was nearly past, he now felt famished. He hadn't eaten properly in at least a day. He then realized again that he was still alive. He began to believe then that he had met the promised friend - or in this case, friends.  
  
It was bright outside, and Arum saw that Gina was not in the den. Mara was, though, dozing somewhat fitfully. Her two cubs and Meadow were snuggled next to her, also sleeping. Arum, fighting his instinct, quietly crept towards the mother homba and whispered, "Excuse me?" in her ear.  
  
Mara started with a yelp and woke the three little ones beside her. They promptly starting crying out. Arum backed away, whispering, "Sorry... Sorry..."  
  
Mara responded with a sigh of relief and a chuckle. "Don't worry about it, Arum. I was just having one of those foxhound nightmares that foxes get every once in a while. Oh, wait - we're 'hombil' to you, right?"  
  
"Uh... yeah, I guess."  
  
Mara chuckled again. "Anyway, what did you want, Arum?"  
  
"I just wanted to know why?"  
  
"Why, what?" Mara knew what, but didn't want to make it seem like it was a big deal.  
  
"You saved my Meadow... Why?"  
  
Mara thought back to what she had told Currant and Fritillary so long ago. She responded, "Because you're not my enemies - you're my friends. I've just always felt that way. Besides myself and my cubs, there isn't any fox I know of that feels the same way. We must seem strange to them, to say the least." She changed the subject, "Arum, have you eaten yet?"  
  
"No, but I guess I should."  
  
"Well, there's still that grass for you."  
  
"Thanks," said Arum. The flay was somewhat dry, but one of the more delicious meals he'd had in some time. With his mouth full, he asked Mara, "So, do you just eat this, too?"  
  
"Oh, no, we're fishers." She paused. "Arum?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Where is your mate, anyway?" Mara saw the tears begin to glisten in his eyes, and added, "Arum, I'm sorry. She's gone, isn't she?"  
  
"Yes," Arum sniffed, "She stopped running. The river took her. And three of my young ones. Only Meadow and I survived." Arum lay down, put his head on his paws, and closed his welling eyes.  
  
Mara got up and put a comforting paw on his head. "Arum, I'm sorry," she repeated softly.  
  
Just then, Gina returned with a fish in her mouth. When she saw the scene, she became concerned, asking, "Mother, is Arum all right?"  
  
"He's lost his family, dear, except for Meadow."  
  
Gina echoed her mother's condolences to the weeping rabbit.  
  
Arum looked up and whispered, "You're promised friends, aren't you?"  
  
Mara remembered the same question asked by Currant. There was something more to this, perhaps an explanation. "I don't know. What do you mean?"  
  
Arum related the story of The Promised Friends. Mara and Gina looked at each other. They were beginning to understand why they were the way they were.  
  
***  
  
The four foxes and two rabbits made the den their new home. They spent a lot of time that spring exchanging stories with each other, so the foxes learned many of the El-Ahrairah tales common among rabbits. The foxes made up their own stories, as the traditional hunting tales wouldn't have been appropriate. The fox cubs Mark and Carol and Arum's daughter Meadow enjoyed these stories immensely as they began to comprehend both the lapine and fox tongues.  
  
As summer progressed, Mark, Carol and Meadow became fast friends. They would wrestle together, the foxes being careful not to hurt Meadow accidentally. The three older animals watched and talked about how events were going.  
  
During one late-summer evening, they were within the gaze of several pairs of narrowed eyes. "I knew we should've been checking up on them more often. Can you believe those foxes? This is outrageous! What do you think?" Kate turned to her vixen friends.  
  
"I think we need to keep clear," replied one of her companions, "Whatever they have might be contagious."  
  
Kate's eyes suddenly grew wide. "You, know, I just realized something... Remember that crazy old dog fox we met last spring in the west woods?"  
  
"We've seen lots of those, Kate," said another, "Remember that one just the other day that insisted on chasing that weird black-and-white animal until it sprayed that horrid scent?"  
  
Kate sighed in frustration. "Yes, silly, but pertaining to foxes with rabbits as friends, remember?" She waited impatiently for this to register with them, then added, "The one named Pratt, I believe?"  
  
Her companions all echoed, "Ohhhhhhh..." in unison.  
  
***  
  
Indeed, one year earlier, during one of their forages for news, Kate and her friends had wandered near Pratt's home. When she had asked him for his life story (Kate was definitely not shy), the subject of Mara had come up. Pratt's eyes burned red with rage as he described his rebellious daughter. "Fera and I had two perfectly normal litters, then in our third one, last year, along comes Mara, who refused to eat anything except fish. Fortunately, this year's litter is very normal."  
  
Pratt went on to describe how Mara actually had befriended rabbits - one of which he had had the pleasure of killing. That was the last time that he had seen his wayward one.  
  
Of course, that outlandish tale had been discounted by the vixens as silliness, and they thought no more of it.  
  
***  
  
"There's his Mara," said one.  
  
"Impossible! Pratt said that she was dead!" said another.  
  
"No, he only said that she must be dead," corrected Kate.  
  
"And we thought that he was just making up stories," added the first vixen.  
  
"I've never asked that loner her name, but I'm sure that it's her. Who else could it be? I'm sure Pratt would like to know of this. I wonder if he still lives in the west woods? Hmmm... Who wants to come?"  
  
"Is it far?" asked one of the newest vixens to join the group.  
  
"A few hours' jaunt is all," said Kate, "This should prove interesting." She turned to one of her oldest friends and asked, "Brenda, would you mind staying back and doing some spy work? Listen in and find out what you can. Names, plans, if there's any others like them... We'll be back with Pratt hopefully in the morning." Brenda nodded.  
  
Kate and her companions set off. Each one enjoyed these spur-of-the-moment journeys that helped Kate keep on top of the news in the area. That is one of the reasons that they ran together. But, as fate would have it, they weren't able to lead Pratt back to Mara's home in they way that they had planned.  
  
***  
  
Brenda was able to discern their names just by listening. The mother fox was indeed Mara, and the cubs were Gina, Carol, and Mark. The rabbits were Arum and Meadow. They weren't talking about anything of interest, and Brenda's sudden sneezing fit thanks to some nearby pollen-laden flowers ended her espionage.  
  
Without saying a word, Brenda fled and managed to track and catch up to Kate. "Sorry, Kate, they saw me. But, I know their names, anyway."  
  
"Wonderful, Brenda, now they won't be there in the morning," growled Kate.  
  
Pratt was still in his old den, much to Kate's delight, and was somewhat skeptical to hear of Mara and her family. He was certain that Mara couldn't have survived, let alone have had her own family. Still, he agreed to come along, just in case.  
  
The next morning, even before sunrise, they set out again. Hours later, just before they even got to Mara's den, Pratt stopped, having seen something that caught his hunger's attention.  
  
"Wait! Quiet! Look at that!" Pratt nodded in the direction of a large buck rabbit that seemed to be walking in a daydream state. "This one's mine," he added, quickly springing into a desperate chase.  
  
"Oh, brother!" said Kate, "You know where's his priority is, between finding his daughter and filling his stomach. I guess we'll have to wait for him to come back... Oh, forget it! Let's just go back to our den! If he wants to find Mara, he can find us later!"  
  
***  
  
The following morning, Arum felt that the time was right to tell his friends of his plans. "Mara, we've been thinking..."  
  
"Yes, Arum?"  
  
Arum sighed and looked at his daughter. "Meadow is a few months old now, and she asked me last night why we don't live with other rabbits. I guess her 'warren' instinct is kicking in."  
  
Mara was suspecting where this conversation was leading. "You're thinking of leaving, aren't you?"  
  
Looking away, Arum paused and said, "Yeah, I guess." Another pause, then, "I think it's time. Mazarine and I liked having a burrow to ourselves, but look where that got us... I think it's best to find a warren to live in. But I don't want you to think-"  
  
"Arum, we knew you might go sooner or later, but we left it up to you. I guess last night's visitor was a good motivation, though. It's no good if every fox knows of us. Anyway, I'm glad to see that you want this, trust me. And we don't have to be strangers."  
  
Carol had been laying nearby, resting. Had she not been feeling a little more fatigued than usual this morning, she would have joined her brother Mark and older sister Gina when they had left to go fishing earlier. Her eyes had been closed, but she had heard what had been said up to this point. She lifted her head, looking at the rabbits, and sighed, "Well, we'll miss you two. But, mother's right. We can keep in touch."  
  
"We could introduce you to our warren when we find one," said Meadow hopefully.  
  
Mara winced. "Actually, I think it would be better not to. Remember, as far as I know, besides my family, every fox would love a rabbit dinner. It would confuse the rabbits' instincts if we befriended a whole warren - especially the younger ones. Besides, foxes are more solitary than rabbits." She responded to Meadow's disappointed expression, "Rather, we'll keep our distance and help when we can. Like we did for you."  
  
Arum added, "She's right, Meadow. We'll see each other on occasion. Don't- "  
  
The unmistakable report of a gun ripped the air. Mara and Carol looked at each other. They each knew what the other was thinking: Gina! Mark!  
  
Arum could see the consternation on their faces and offered, "It wasn't them. I'm sure of it."  
  
The reassuring words couldn't help. Tears were building in the foxes' eyes, and the group sat in silence for some minutes, no one knowing what to do or say.  
  
Mark came bounding in just then. "Mother! Guess what?"  
  
"What, dear?" Mara prepared herself for the devastating news, but noted that Mark's tone of voice was much more of excitement than grief.  
  
"Gina's found a rabbit in some rocks by the river, and it won't come out. She wants Arum and Meadow to come."  
  
Mara and Carol looked at each other in obvious relief. Then, Meadow and Arum looked at each other. "Well, what are we waiting for?" said Arum, "Come on, Meadow." The three hombil and two rabbits started off immediately.  
  
************ 


	10. Part 10

Part Ten - United  
  
"A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24, NIV  
  
"Let's try down by that rockslide, Mark. The rocks in the river make it easier to trap fish." Gina loved mentoring her younger brother. Her extra year of experience had earned her much wisdom that had in large part been handed down by her parents - mostly Mara. She was glad to take her place in the chain of teaching. Suddenly, Gina stopped and sniff the ground.  
  
"What is it?" asked Mark.  
  
"There's been a chase through here just now."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I can smell a rabbit - and that it was scared out of its mind. And there's definitely a dog fox chasing it. Although, the fox' scent is confusing me. It seems so familiar. Come on, Mark, let's follow the trail. It's going our way, anyway."  
  
As they approached the river, they could hear snarling. Looking down the bank to the pile of rocks at the river's edge, they could see a fox tail protruding from a freshly dug hole at the base of a fractured rock. The tail worked back and forth; obviously its owner was on the verge of catching its target. "That must be the fox, and the rabbit must be trapped in there," observed Gina, "The poor thing."  
  
"What are we going to do, then?"  
  
Gina thought for a minute, then her face brightened. "I have an idea. Mark, stay here and wait for me to come back." With that she ran towards the digging fox.  
  
Mark watched as his older sister tore down the bank, crying "Get out! Get out! They're coming!" The other fox extracted himself from the hole, looking annoyed. The two foxes exchanged inaudible words, Gina acting hysterically, and the dog fox looking skeptical. Suddenly, a clap of thunder, loud yet strangely cut short, caused Mark to leap nearly a foot in the air. He immediately searched the sky that showed through the shivering leaves. There had been a promise of stormy weather in the air for the last day, yet there was no storm that could yet be seen or smelled. He then remembered the story of how his father Lane had been presumably killed just before he and his sister Carol had been born. He remembered his mother and older sister describing the sound of the gun - one of man's deadly tools. What he had just heard matched that description perfectly. He looked to the river, but his sister and the dog fox had vanished. Alone and frightened, Mark huddled in some undergrowth, waiting for Gina to return, like she said she would.  
  
After a long while had passed and realizing that nothing further was likely to happen, Mark cautiously crawled from his refuge and again looked to the river. Gina was there again, but the dog fox was nowhere to be seen. Gina was pawing at her muzzle, which appeared to be bleeding. Curious, he walked down to where his older sister was.  
  
"Gina! What was that sound? Was that a gun?"  
  
"Yes, Mark," replied Gina, rubbing her nose, "that was a gun."  
  
"Did it hit you? You're bleeding!"  
  
"No, it didn't. The rabbit in there got me with his hind claws. I was just trying to calm him down. Got too close, I guess."  
  
"Why would he do that?"  
  
"Mark, he doesn't know that we mean to help him." She paused. "But if you go get Arum and Meadow, that will help. I'll wait here and make sure our friend is all right."  
  
Mark left in a flash. Gina returned her attention to the rabbit.  
  
"I'm not kidding, I'm not going to hurt you," she said, keeping a safer distance this time.  
  
Oaktrunk cursed at her hoarsely and spat, "You think I'm that naive? If you want your meal, you're going to have to earn it," - he kicked out with a hind foot again, this time only gouging the mud with his claws - "and earn it with your blood!"  
  
"I understand what you're feeling. My brother is going to bring back two of my friends that I know you're going to want to meet."  
  
Did she say, 'meet' or, 'meat'? thought Oaktrunk darkly. "Yes, I'm sure of that," he said, "You're going to have a feast of me, aren't you? Glad you've caught such a large meal?" His voice was wavering with fear.  
  
"Those two friends are rabbits," Gina replied simply.  
  
Oh, please, thought Oaktrunk, just stop these embleer games and finish it. He knew it was just a matter of time before the vixen dug the rest of the way in and seized him in her cruel, razor jaws. He stopped struggling and lay still. Gina lay down outside Oaktrunk's refuge and waited silently for Mark to return, putting her nose in the cold river water to ease the pain of her muzzle's wound..  
  
After a while, Mark returned with Mara, Carol, Arum, and Meadow. Gina got up and said to Arum, "He's in there. He's got to believe you, I would think."  
  
Arum crawled into the partially-flooded hole and saw Oaktrunk laying at the far end of the stone's fissure, just beyond where the mud had been dug away. He cautiously moved ahead, saying, "Hello? Are you all right?"  
  
Oaktrunk again lashed out with his hind feet, grazing Arum and sending him leaping back into the muddy water. "Easy! I'm a friend!" he said.  
  
Turning around with some difficulty in order to defend himself with his front claws and teeth if necessary, Oaktrunk saw that it was not the vixen or any other fox that had spoken this time. It really was another rabbit - another buck, somewhat smaller than he was. Oaktrunk whispered roughly, "What are you doing? There's a homba out there!"  
  
"Yes, I know," Arum assured him in a normal tone of voice, "Actually, there's four of them out there - and they're my friends. Please come out; it's all right."  
  
"The homba chased me in here and almost dug me out and now you want me to come out just like that?"  
  
"Well, it certainly wasn't of these ones that chased you," replied Arum, "The only hombil out there are friends. Have you heard the story of the promised friend?"  
  
"Uh... just yesterday, actually..." Oaktrunk replied, somewhat marveling at the coincidence.  
  
"Well, let me introduce you to our promised friends. By the way - I'm Arum."  
  
"Uh... Oaktrunk."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Oaktrunk. Let me introduce you to them. And my daughter, Meadow. One of the hombil saved her life, you know." Arum called to some unseen companions that were outside the hole. A vixen poked her head down into the hole behind Arum, and a doe kitten crawled in and lay down beside Arum. "See?" he beamed, "That is Mara there; she saved my Meadow here. You've nothing to worry about."  
  
Oaktrunk gulped and thought, This can't be a trick, can it?. Besides, I've no way out, anyhow. He slowly crawled out, trembling as he looked at the four hombil surrounding him. "Well, here I am," he said simply. He looked at the gash he had dug in Gina's nose and looked down, half expecting her to at least return a cuff. Her expression, however, was one of concern rather than one of anger. It was she that spoke next.  
  
"So... did I hear correctly that your name is Oaktrunk?" Waiting for Oaktrunk to nod, she continued, "Don't worry about me; it'll heal, and besides, it was my fault. Are you all right?"  
  
Oaktrunk looked up in surprise. He could sense no deceit in her eyes whatsoever. "Where is the homba that tried to kill me, though?" he asked.  
  
Gina smiled, "I don't think he's going to be back for a while. The gunshot scared him away. And lucky for that too, because I didn't think he was about to believe my story of being chased by man."  
  
Oaktrunk ventured, "You scared him off?"  
  
"Well actually, the gun did."  
  
"But, you tried?"  
  
"Yes," replied Gina simply.  
  
"And it wasn't because you wanted to steal a free meal away?"  
  
Gina was genuinely hurt. "No," she gasped indignantly, "Of course not! You're still here, aren't you? And, look..." She nodded towards Arum and Meadow.  
  
"So, what did you want?" Oaktrunk asked her.  
  
Arum replied for Gina, "We're lucky that we found you. Meadow and I have decided to find a warren to call home. Perhaps you could introduce us to yours?"  
  
Mara knew that Oaktrunk was still very confused. "Look," she said, "Why don't we just go back to our den and talk there? It's not-" Mara paused, her mouth open, then sniffed the ground carefully.  
  
"Mother, what's wrong?" pressed Carol.  
  
"No! It can't be..." Fear was evident in Mara's eyes.  
  
Arum became concerned. "What can't be?"  
  
Mara turned and asked, "Gina, did that dog fox' scent strike you as familiar in any way?"  
  
Gina paused. "Come to think of it, yes. As if he... Mother, what are you thinking?"  
  
"I knew it! It's my father! Why is he here? This can't be good..."  
  
"What do we do, mother?" asked Mark worriedly. Mara had told her cubs of how Pratt had treated her while she was still a cub. If Pratt were here now, it was unlikely to be a coincidence.  
  
"We're not going home. We've got to find somewhere else. Downstream, far downstream, through the river, across roads; we have to get him off of our trail."  
  
Wordlessly, Oaktrunk got up and followed the others as they made their way briskly along the arduous journey. Arum and Meadow were beside him, talking as they went - explaining their own story of meeting the hombil. Slowly, the confusion and fear that Oaktrunk had felt towards Mara and her cubs began to fade in his heart, but this was replaced by the unrest that the others showed due to the presence of the homba named Pratt.  
  
***  
  
"Where in the world did that vixen go?" Pratt thought, "I only heard one shot; and she was definitely not struck by it." His pulse was returning to normal as he made his way back towards where he had had the rabbit trapped under the rock. He knew there was little chance that it was still there, but he had to check.  
  
Sure enough, when he arrived at the rock and poked his head into the muddy hole that he had been digging, he saw that the rabbit was gone. He cursed loudly, adding, "Why did man have to ruin a perfect meal? I was almost-" He paused, sniffing the air. He had caught the scent of other foxes, scent no more than a few minutes old. What was more, the scent of one fox in particular was too familiar to him, despite not having been known for so long.  
  
"Mara!" he spat, "Kate was right! She is alive; she was right here!" His eyes burned, and his mind raced with a mixture of paranoia and rage. "Oh! Oh! So my own daughter is behind this! She must have others working with her - and that vixen was one of them!" He tore at his face with his claws, "Fool! I knew her scent was close to mine - that was one of Mara's cubs! I'll bet there were others to deliberately get man to shoot at them just to scare me into thinking... Oh! I hope they got hit!" He immediately sniffed around for their trail. After a few minutes, it became obvious that the trail was deliberately convoluted, and then it disappeared into the river. I hope they drowned, he thought savagely.  
  
Pratt made his way to Kate's den, hoping for more helpful information on tracking his wayward daughter down. He had been satisfied to let Mara go the night that she had left his den; when he had followed her and found her befriending some rabbits by a shed on a nearby farm. There was no way that she would live for long, he had thought - despite the fact that Mara had grown adept at fishing. But, now, here she had been, alive and well, despite what he had convinced himself of. I should have killed her that very night, he thought. It was an obsession now; he had to erase this blemish on his family - forever.  
  
************ 


	11. Part 11

Part Eleven - Crisis at Grotto  
  
"What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar? To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches?" Isaiah 10:3, NIV  
  
Oaktrunk had grown unafraid finally, thanks to the tales of Arum, not to mention the fact that if the hombil were hostile, he would've known by now. Of course, Oaktrunk was told more about Mara's father, Pratt, who had almost killed Oaktrunk earlier - and that probably the only four hombil in the world that were safe to be near were in his presence now.  
  
"I'm only visiting Grotto," he said to the other rabbits, "but I'm sure they'd be glad to have you. You can also come with me to Cloudtree Warren, where I live, if you wish. I should be going back home after a day." In order to ensure that he wouldn't have too far to take Arum and Meadow later, Oaktrunk wanted to make sure that as they sought a new place to stay, they were not too far from Grotto Warren. In their effort to throw Pratt off their trail, they made a wide circle back so that they were perhaps an hour from Grotto, in the opposite direction that the river lay. Though Oaktrunk knew that Grotto wasn't far at all from where Pratt had trapped him, and had been tempted to go straight to his destination from the rockslide, he also wanted to know more about his new friends.  
  
Just as the sun was setting, Mara's family and the rabbits finally found shelter that they felt was safe. It was a ruined stone house, perhaps two centuries old, that was overgrown with ivy. Two walls had collapsed, forming a small hollow under stones piled in a corner. The roof had long since rotted away.  
  
That night, Oaktrunk told the other rabbits about the history of Cloudtree and Grotto Warrens - the past battles, the new Chiefs, and the present peace. Arum and Meadow both decided that they wanted to live in Cloudtree, due in no small part to Oaktrunk's glowing praise of General Hrairah. The foxes listened with great interest, surprised and saddened at the past violence, but glad to hear of the end to those times.  
  
After Oaktrunk had told his stories, the whole group fell asleep, weary from the day's happenings.  
  
***  
  
"Mr. Castles, you might want to reconsider doing the gassing tomorrow afternoon. Have you heard the forecast?"  
  
"No, Winston, I haven't. But hasn't the weather been just grand lately? So warm - a touch sticky, but just grand overall."  
  
Winston rolled his eyes but spoke politely into the telephone, "Yes, well, you should know that they're calling for storms tomorrow. The weather's been hot like this for so long that something big's bound to happen."  
  
"Well, I'm not calling off the gassing now. I'd have to wait a week to reschedule. Mind you, I could easily pull a few strings with them. But, anyway, I don't see how there could be storms tomorrow, I mean there wasn't a cloud in the sky at sunset today. Now, enough about the weather. I rang to tell you about some new equipment that I saw in a farm magazine today. It says it is two per cent more efficient in harvesting grain. I was planning on buying this stuff for you before harvest starts. You should read up on it."  
  
Winston first sighed about his landlord's indifference towards the storms. "Suit yourself." Then, he suppressed his extreme annoyance at George's plan to buy all new equipment for harvesting, when the current equipment was bought just last spring for over one hundred thousand pounds. I suspect he must be almost through his savings by now. I now his father won't lend him more. Still, this man thinks money grows on trees, or something, he thought. "Great, Mr. Castles," he said, "I'm sure it will do a dandy job. Anyway, was that all? It's almost midnight."  
  
"Oh, yes. I'm going to fax you the information right now. See you tomorrow, Winston."  
  
"Good bye, Mr. Castles."  
  
After hanging up, Winston fumed to himself, That fool is going to ruin not only himself, but everyone that has to work with him. He longed for his former landlord, Mrs. West. Now there was a competent businesswoman.  
  
***  
  
In the morning, at the first hint of light, Oaktrunk woke; after carefully stepping around his sleeping friends and outside, he stretched and lay down again, patiently waiting for the others to join him. He knew that Grotto was only two hours away at most, so there was no huge rush to leave. The air felt unusually warm even now, at traditionally the coolest time of day - just before sunrise. Oaktrunk shivered at the thought of how warm it would get today.  
  
One by one, as dawn grew brighter, the other two rabbits and the four foxes awoke and crawled out of the toppled stones. Oaktrunk spoke first.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to come along, Mara?"  
  
"Oh, I couldn't, Oaktrunk. This is your journey. I know we'll meet time and again, though, don't worry. Besides, my father is probably looking for me, and I don't want him anywhere near you."  
  
Oaktrunk looked down. "I understand." He gazed around at his new friends. "Thanks for everything," then looking at Gina, "and for saving my life."  
  
Gina looked away in embarrassment, murmuring, "I was just lucky..."  
  
"We wouldn't be here either, were it not for you," spoke up Arum, putting a paw on Meadow and eyeing both Gina and Mara. Upon noticing Gina's increased discomfort, he added, "I know I've said that already; I just thought it appropriate to say it again."  
  
A moment of silence passed, after which Oaktrunk sighed, "Well, I suppose we should be going. No need dragging out painful farewells." Oaktrunk, Arum, and Meadow then slowly started off towards Grotto.  
  
***  
  
Restharrow was nervously surveying the farm, watching for any signs of further human aggression. A human had been walking around the warren earlier that morning, sending the warren into another panic. The first attack had left the poor doe Wren missing three days before; she was presumed lost forever. The second attack, which had wounded Beet two days ago, and the third attack, which had narrowly missed Restharrow in the morning of the day before, had set the warren on edge. For hrair years, they had lived in peace without any trouble from man. Now, three attacks in three days? The fear was palpable throughout the entire warren. The story of Sandleford Warren, the warren which was destroyed by man and from which Watership Down's Hazel-rah and friends were originally from, was retold. Talk of abandoning the warren was beginning.  
  
Just then, Restharrow saw a familiar rabbit approaching with two strangers. He greeted the one that he knew, "Oaktrunk! Glad to see you again! But, is it time for the next Rah meeting already? And where is General Hrairah? And who are-" Restharrow stopped and sniffed the three rabbits closely, before adding, "And why do you all smell so strongly of hombil?"  
  
Oaktrunk replied, "Glad to see you, too Restharrow. Actually, I was coming alone, until I met up with Arum and Meadow here. I just wanted to get away for a while." He noticed Restharrow's impatient stare. He wanted to tell him the whole story, but knew it was a bit much to be believed without benefit of the hombil being here. He continued, "We found a homba den to stay in last night. No sign of elil, though. They must have been scared off by the man and the gun. We would've come straight here, but we were wary of the gun and wanted to hide until this morning. I was up all night in case the hombil came back." It wasn't entirely a lie. Technically, Mara and her cubs were not elil, as by definition elil is any enemy of a rabbit. And, Pratt had been scared off by the gun.  
  
Restharrow thought nothing more of it; after all there was a crisis at hand. "Oaktrunk, speaking of guns, something's been happening here lately."  
  
Oaktrunk grew concerned at Restharrow's expression. "Whatever is it?"  
  
"One of our doe kittens was taken by humans. And Beet was shot," Restharrow said, quickly adding, "But he's going to be all right. His ear was injured badly, though. And I was shot at yesterday - but the man missed."  
  
"Yes, yesterday, I think that's the same shot that we heard," recalled Oaktrunk, "We were just down by the river at the time, by the rockslide."  
  
Restharrow nodded. "Yes, well come inside, all of you, we have much to discuss."  
  
"Thank you, I hope it's cooler in the burrows than out here," replied Oaktrunk.  
  
"Yes, early in the day for this heat, isn't it?" agreed Restharrow, surveying the sky, "And I can feel a storm in the air, can't you?"  
  
As they went underground, George Castles was just walking towards Grotto.  
  
***  
  
WEATHER BULLETIN  
  
ISSUED BY THE MET.OFFICE AT 0600 UTC  
  
A LARGE CLUSTER OF THUNDER STORMS HAS FORMED OVER THE BAY OF BISCAY AND WESTERN FRANCE IN THE OVERNIGHT HOURS. THESE THUNDER STORMS ARE MOVING DUE NORTH AND ARE EXPECTED TO INTENSIFY WITH THE HEAT OF THE DAY AS THEY SWEEP OVER WALES AND SOUTHERN ENGLAND.  
  
ALL PERSONS SHOULD BE AWARE OF THE POTENTIAL FOR SEVERE THUNDER STORMS TODAY IN THE AREA STRETCHING FROM LANCASTER IN THE NORTHWEST TO MIDDLESBROUGH IN THE NORTHEAST AND ALL POINTS SOUTH TO THE ENGLISH CHANNEL. PLEASE STAY TUNED FOR UPDATED BULLETINS AND WEATHER WARNINGS THAT MAY BE PUT INTO FORCE AS THE DAY PROGRESSES.  
  
END TRANSMISSION  
  
***  
  
"Beet! It's me."  
  
At the sound of Oaktrunk's voice, Beet slowly stirred and raised his head. "Hi, Oaktrunk," he whispered drearily, "Where's General Hrairah?"  
  
"No, he didn't come with me this time. It's not the Rah meeting day yet. I just came to see what's been happening at Grotto."  
  
"Well, things have happened, all right," Beet replied, stroking his sore but now less painful ear, "We don't know what to do now."  
  
Pipit put her paw on Beet's, soothing, "Don't worry, dear, we'll be all right. Walnut will know what to do."  
  
"I hope so," Beet said, "he's called a meeting, hasn't he?"  
  
"Yes, dear, he has, but don't worry about that. Walnut told me to make sure that you stay here and rest until you're feeling better."  
  
"Thanks, Pipit. I will, though I'd like to come, too."  
  
***  
  
Walnut patiently waited for silence, but after a few minutes of nervous chattering from the rabbits gathered in the main burrow, he cleared his throat twice to get the desired effect.  
  
"Dear friends, as you know, for the first time in this warren's history, we have found ourselves deliberately and directly attacked by man. We know not their motives, but we do know this: more attacks are likely, and given man's terrible ingenuity and determination, they are likely to attack again and again, with more devastating effect at least until we are destroyed. I recall the tragedy of Sandleford Warren as the example - though Fiver's vision was the only warning they had to escape. At least we have had our warning now.  
  
"What I am asking for now are suggestions for our course of action. I personally feel that we should evacuate, although I am fully aware that we have mothers with nursing kittens. Who goes? Who stays? Where can we flee to? I wish to leave you the opportunity to speak."  
  
"We can't leave!" shouted a doe on the verge of tears, "I can't take my kittens with me!"  
  
"I'm not leaving, either," added her mate.  
  
An uproar of voices was silenced by Walnut's shout, "Quiet! One at a time!"  
  
Restharrow spoke next, "Walnut-rah, I feel that there is imminent danger in staying. I believe that whoever can leave, should leave. As to where, I suggest Cloudtree Warren." He paused, then asked, "Oaktrunk, you have spare burrows, don't you?"  
  
"Uh... we have a few, but our does can quickly dig more if need be. Yes, I can say on behalf of General Hrairah that anyone here would be welcome to stay at Cloudtree."  
  
Walnut spoke again, "Well, I agree that those who can leave, should, but it won't be compulsory. I also agree with Cloudtree being a refuge, although everyone should be aware that it might take a day for the slower ones to get there. Now, we should decide who will stay. I will, for certain."  
  
"And I will," said Restharrow, "I'm still acting Owsla Captain, after all."  
  
"Then, I stay too!" cried Fawn.  
  
"It's too dangerous, Fawn," replied Restharrow softly, "Please... The kittens are old enough to travel. Take them to Cloudtree - they need you."  
  
"Yes, dear," said Fawn, on the edge of crying, "Why can't we all just go?"  
  
Restharrow's voice became even softer, "Fawn, if everyone could go, that would be perfect. But, you know that nursing kittens can't go - they'll never survive out on the silf - and we can't just leave them alone here. Some have to stay and watch over them. Hopefully, perhaps, nothing further happens, and we can all come back."  
  
Fawn's reply was, "I know," and bitter sobbing.  
  
"All right," said Walnut, "Nursing kittens will stay. Now, I need volunteer does to stay and watch over them. Not all of the marlis with these kittens need to stay here. And all of their mates may leave." However, all the does with those kittens made it clear that they weren't going anywhere; their mates echoed that sentiment.. "Fine," said Walnut, "I expected as much. You don't have to go. Who else is staying?" There was silence. "All right, the does with nursing kittens and their mates stay. Restharrow stays. I stay. Everyone else may leave. Oaktrunk will lead the way to Cloudtree."  
  
Beet, who had walked in some time before and had remained silent, spoke up, "I'm staying. This is my home." He paused and added in a lower voice, "I'm sorry, Pipit, I've made up my mind."  
  
Restharrow replied, "No, Beet, let me stay. Your kittens are old enough to go."  
  
"Pipit can take care of them just fine. Just like Fawn can take care of yours," answered Beet, "and you've chosen to stay, haven't you? Besides, I'm the Owsla Captain."  
  
"Not until you're better again."  
  
"I'm embleer better again, all right?" snapped Beet.  
  
Not wishing for this to go any further, Walnut interrupted, "All right! You both stay! Agreed?"  
  
Beet and Restharrow grunted their agreement.  
  
Walnut sighed. "All right. Oaktrunk, perhaps you can start off as soon as possible."  
  
Oaktrunk started to reply but was interrupted by Arum whispering in his ear, "Oaktrunk! So many rabbits out on the silf would be in serious danger. We've got to go get Mara and her cubs to help us!"  
  
Oaktrunk whispered harshly back, "No time, Arum! We have to leave now!"  
  
Arum continued, "But we can go to their den after we leave... It'll be safer..."  
  
"Oaktrunk?" said Walnut, "Are you going?"  
  
"Yes, Walnut-rah, right aw-"  
  
The muffled but unmistakable sounds of gunfire could be heard. Several kittens started crying, and whispers of panic could be heard.  
  
Oaktrunk finished firmly, "We're going right now. All right! All those who can leave and wish to leave, come with me!"  
  
With that, Oaktrunk started out of the main burrow, followed by Arum, Meadow, and a number of bucks and does with kittens walking alongside them. Pipit and Fawn also left with their kittens, after tearful farewells to Beet and Restharrow. The evacuation had begun.  
  
************ 


	12. Part 12

Part Twelve - Bait and Trap  
  
"Moreover, no man knows when his hour will come: As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them." Ecclesiastes 9:12  
  
George arrived at Winston's farm early in the day that the gassing was to take place. He was actually excited about the upcoming assault; he fantasized that he was a conquering hero reclaiming an occupied land from a vicious enemy. The fact that the enemy was a warren of rabbits was not stopping his grandeur vision.  
  
As he was scouting out the area of the warren, rubbing his hands together and almost cackling with glee, he said, "Well, my friends, it won't be long, now. You're about to experience the wrath of George Castles. You'll rue the day you decided to infest my farm." He carried his loaded rifle, hoping to find a stray target, failing to realize that the rabbits had enough sense to stay underground when he was in plain sight and directly on top of the warren.  
  
After a half hour of patrolling, he grew bored and decided to go back to Winston's house to see how much his tenant had learned about the new harvesting equipment that was going to be arriving. I'm going to be the most successful farmer in all England, he thought, actually believing himself.  
  
During his talk with Winston, George looked out of the windows, nervously checking the skies, which were clouding over from the south, and then noticed something move by one of the sheds. He got out his field glasses to investigate.  
  
George grumbled, "Oh, great! Now we have foxes, too!" His first thought, of course, was of shooting them. He was still in his commando mode.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"By that shed there." He handed the field glasses to Winston.  
  
"Oh, yes. I sure hope they're not after Hopkins."  
  
"Who the heck is Hopkins?"  
  
"That rabbit kitten that you caught the other day. I've got it a cage in the barn for now, but I left the barn's front door open."  
  
"I see." A plan was already forming in George's mind as to how to get rid of the foxes. He added, "Don't worry, Winston, I'll make sure Hopkins is all right. I'll be right back. Keep reading up on this harvester."  
  
Winston watched as his boss walked to the barn, disappeared, and came back out several minutes later, finally closing the door. As George walked back, Winston noticed a rather angry expression on his face. When he returned, he said, "That stupid rabbit of yours is safe for now, but I have a mind to get rid of it myself!"  
  
For one hundred pounds, you're not touching poor Hopkins, he thought, adding, "Thank you, Mr. Castles. I wouldn't want my niece to be disappointed." He paused. "Mr. Castles, your hand is bleeding!"  
  
"Oh, right, that bloody rabbit of yours bit me. I was just checking to see if the lock was secure."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, I'll have a chat with Hopkins about her manners." His smile vanished when his eyes met George's glare.  
  
"Just shut up and let's get back to this harvester information," huffed George, "You're the one that's going to be running the equipment, you know."  
  
And doing all the work, you... Winston found it difficult to curse even in his thoughts.  
  
While poring over the papers which George found incomprehensible and which Winston understood perfectly well but knew to be a waste of time, George glanced at the barn through the window every few seconds to see if his plan was going to work. Soon, he saw a fox disappearing behind the barn. "Excuse me, Winston, I just saw that fox again," he said, quickly getting up, "I'll be right back - again."  
  
Winston watched curiously as several minutes later, George once again made his way to the barn - this time with his rifle in hand. What is he up to? he thought. This time, he decided to follow. As he made his way to the barn, several shots rang out. The shots were not from outside, or behind the barn, but from inside the barn. Winston waited for the shooting to stop before proceeding. You crazy idiot! he fumed as he ran to the barn and threw open the front door.  
  
***  
  
"I think it's safer to keep on the move so long as Pratt is after me," pondered Mara, "Besides, I want to make sure our friends get to the warren safely." Her cubs agreed, and she finished, "But, let's keep our distance. When we know that they're safe, we'll leave." At this, the cubs' ears drooped.  
  
The foxes followed the three rabbits at a distance for the hour that it took for them to get to Grotto. When they saw Oaktrunk greet another rabbit, then all four disappear inside the warren, they decided to leave them at that.  
  
After their friends went underground, they decided to take a short nap in some bushes. Mara didn't sleep long, and woke to begin scouting the farm for a potential temporary refuge where Pratt would be unlikely to look for them. Some time later, Mara woke her cubs after she noticed a man walking towards one of the large buildings of the nearby farm, a building she had yet to investigate. The man entered the building through a large front door. Some squealing could be heard inside. After a while, the man used a rock to prop open one of the doors that was facing away from the house. He then came out of the main door, closed it, and disappeared inside the house.  
  
"Mother, that sounded like a rabbit squealing," observed Gina.  
  
"Yes, I wonder what that was all about. I'm going to go see. Gina, don't let those two go anywhere."  
  
"Yes, mother."  
  
Mara set out towards the open door. Poking her head inside, she could smell that indeed a rabbit was inside. Then she saw the doe kitten, tied to a string and hanging from a rafter, her ears barely touching the floor. She was squealing and sobbing, hopelessly trying to twist around to reach the string and free herself. When she saw Mara enter, she gave up and just let herself hang there, her eyes closed.  
  
"What in the world is going on? Did that man do this to you?"  
  
The rabbit kitten remained silent and made no effort to struggle as Mara approached and began gnawing on the string. After a short while, the string parted and the kitten fell to the floor, silent and still not moving.  
  
"Just relax," said Mara, "I've got to get this off of your legs now." She gnawed at the tightly-tied string, taking care not to cut into the kitten's legs. Finally, the kitten was free. Mara finished, "All right, you can go now."  
  
The kitten looked at Mara in shock. Just then, Mark and Carol peeked in through the door. "Mother, is the rabbit all right?" asked Mark.  
  
"What are you two doing here? I told you to stay put!"  
  
"But, mother, we had to see what was happening," protested Carol.  
  
Before Mara could further scold her cubs, the same man that she had seen earlier entering and leaving the barn quickly sidled into the side door, slamming it shut behind him. Mara and her cubs froze in terror, and the kitten squealed and dove back into her open cage. The long stick that the man carried in both hands was easily recognizable.  
  
***  
  
"Mother told us to stay here!" Gina scolded her younger siblings after they tried starting off, "And I'm in charge while she's not here."  
  
"But, Gina," protested Mark, "We're only going to take a peek."  
  
"No, Gina's right, Mark," said Carol, "Why don't we pass the time playing games instead?"  
  
"That's the spirit, Carol!" enthused Gina, "Which game did you want to play?"  
  
"Well, how about the one we played with Meadow - 'Foxes and Rabbits'?" Carol winked at Mark, and then he knew what she meant to do.  
  
"Yes," agreed Mark, "We'll be the rabbits, and you're the fox, Gina."  
  
"All right..." said Gina hesitantly.  
  
"Can't catch us, you homba!" shouted Carol as she and Mark tore away - directly towards where their mother had disappeared to.  
  
"Hey! Come back here!" Gina chased them but stopped when she saw the man coming out of the house again - carrying a long stick. "Mark! Carol! There's a man coming!" But, they had already reached the barn. Gina backed away and hid in some tall grass, watching in horror as the man rounded the barn then entered, slamming the door behind him and trapping her mother, brother, and sister inside.  
  
Upon hearing the shots, she fled towards Grotto, where she assumed that the only friends that she had left would be.  
  
***  
  
As George quickly strolled to the barn, he hoped that the bait would work. He had taken Hopkins from her cage, using thick gloves after being bitten during the first attempt, and tied her by string to one of the rafters. His logic was that the squealing would draw the foxes to investigate and then enter the barn for a free meal. The fact that he was not the rightful owner of the animal did not register with him. His excuse would be that the cage must have somehow sprung open, and that the foxes got the rabbit, should the rabbit be injured or killed before he could kill the foxes.  
  
He crept along the side of the barn, careful not to make any noise with his footsteps. He reached the side door, kicked away the rock holding the door open, sprang inside, and slammed the door shut in one fluid motion. His plan had worked. Inside the barn with him and now hopelessly trapped, were three foxes, staring at him, and frozen in terror.  
  
He took quick aim at Mara, the largest fox, and fired a single shot. At only fifteen feet away, he had finally scored a direct hit. Mara was instantly still. The milk cow in the barn began bolting around in her pen.  
  
The two cubs immediately scattered. He fired and one and missed; the bullet thudded into one of the thick wooden beams supporting the roof. He went after the second cub, which had trapped itself in a corner, between two walls and a stack of hay that was several feet high. As it desperately scrambled up the bales, George opened fire again. The cub was knocked off of the bales and briefly yelped in pain, then spent several seconds writhing on the floor before laying still.  
  
George then took a wild shot across the barn at the remaining cub - that bullet ricocheted off of the floor and embedded itself in the opposite wall, missing the cub by at least ten feet. Blind with rage, George threw down the gun, and grabbed a pitchfork, and went after the cub. He cornered it and stabbed at it as it tried to bolt past him. He struck it directly in the side, impaling it with all three tines. The cub uttered a low whine and crawled under a jumble of bales. George was preparing to strike again when the barn's main door swung open.  
  
"Norman, what in bloody tarnation are you doing?" screeched Winston.  
  
George spun around, still wrapped up by his frenzy. "Well, I was just killing your foxes for you, Winston."  
  
Picking up the gun off of the barn floor, Winston fumed, "You don't fire guns in barns! What are you, bloody daft?" He pointed to the milk cow which was now lying in its pen, with the whites of its eyes showing and its breathing coming labouriously. "You nearly gave Holly a heart attack! What are you, crazy?"  
  
George was starting to take offence at the repeated insults. "I am perfectly sane, thank you very much. I'm just trying to get rid of pests here - which is supposed to be your job, by the way."  
  
"That's right, it is my job, and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me do it - the way it's supposed to be done. You don't go shooting up the barn for foxes - you set traps, or else you shoot away from the farm and buildings where people are. It's always worked before, but you wouldn't care; you like playing soldier so bloody much."  
  
"Honestly, Winston, you'd let vermin run my farm over, you incompetent nitwit."  
  
"I don't call three foxes and a few rabbits being run over. Oh, and as for incompetence, how about buying a hundred and fifty thousand pounds of equipment to replace brand-new, unused equipment which cost a hundred thousand pounds and does the same job?"  
  
George could handle being called crazy; he'd heard that before. But the implication that he was an incompetent businessman sent him over the edge. "That's it! If you don't want to run my farm properly, then I'll find someone who will! You're fired!" he roared.  
  
"See if I care! I can get another job; I know how to work, unlike some spoiled, petty, little brat I know." Winston enjoyed that line more than he thought he would.  
  
"Get out of here! Get off of my farm!" George's face was bright red.  
  
"Fine! I'll just pick up my things and be out of here, and glad of it, too! And I'll probably have a job by tomorrow afternoon." With that, Winston turned and stormed off to the house to begin gathering his possessions and loading them into his covered lorry. He looked at the darkening sky to the west, and decided to check the forecast again.  
  
Calling out after Winston, George yelled, "I've got other business to attend to! If you're still here when I get back at four o'clock, consider yourself under arrest for trespassing!" George left the foxes in the barn, pulled out his mobile and called for his driver to pick him up.  
  
Winston waved this off. He knew that George would be back to personally oversee that afternoon's rabbit gassing that he had planned, but he also knew that there was no legal foundation for arrest. He would take as long as he needed to pack. After George left, he went back to the barn to get Hopkins; he was surprised to see that her cage was open, and that Hopkins was still there, cowering in fear.  
  
"Don't worry about him, Hop, you're coming with me." He grimly observed the foxes in the barn, and decided he'd leave the job of getting rid of them up to George. Then, he picked up the Hopkins' cage and went back to the house.  
  
WEATHER BULLETIN  
  
ISSUED BY THE MET.OFFICE AT 1230 UTC  
  
SEVERE THUNDER STORM WARNING IN FORCE  
  
ISSUED FOR COUNTIES CORNWALL, DEVON, AVON, SOMERSET, AND DORSET OF ENGLAND AND COUNTIES SOUTH GLAMORGAN, MID GLAMORGAN, AND WEST GLAMORGAN OF WALES  
  
SEVERE THUNDER STORMS HAVE SWEPT INTO SOUTH WESTERN ENGLAND AND SOUTHERN WALES FROM THE ENGLISH CHANNEL. ACCOMPANYING THESE STORMS ARE HEAVY BURSTS OF RAIN, HAIL, GALE-FORCE WINDS, AND INTENSE LIGHTNING. CITIZENS IN THESE AREAS ARE ASKED TO REMAIN INDOORS FOR THEIR SAFETY UNTIL THE DANGER PASSES. THESE STORMS ARE EXPECTED TO CONTINUE MOVING DUE NORTH.  
  
MORE STORMS ARE FORMING OVER THE ENGLISH CHANNEL AND ARE ASSUMING A SIMILAR PATH, THUS ARE EXPECTED TO AFFECT AREAS OF SOUTHERN ENGLAND EAST OF THE CURRENT WARNING AREAS THIS AFTERNOON. STORMS ARE LIKELY TO STRIKE AS FAR EAST AS GREATER LONDON  
  
PLEASE STAY TUNED FOR UPDATED WARNINGS AS THEY ARE ENDED OR PUT INTO FORCE.  
  
END TRANSMISSION  
  
************ 


	13. Part 13

Part Thirteen - No Time Left  
  
"Flee! Run for your lives; become like a bush in the desert." Jeremiah 48:6, NIV  
  
As Oaktrunk started out with the evacuees, several rabbits squealed and then the whole band began to dive back into the warren's holes. Arum and Meadow went with them without bothering to confirm why they were doing so, and Oaktrunk was following when he saw the reason for the rabbits' panic. A homba vixen was walking towards the warren, and she was apparently in tears. "Oaktrunk! Oaktrunk! Mother, Carol, Mark... I think they've been shot..."  
  
The shots! Oh, no... thought Oaktrunk, adding, "Gina! No..."  
  
"They went into that building and the man trapped them in there. Please, I don't know what to do..."  
  
"Wait, here Gina. I'll be right back." He darted back into the warren, calling for Arum. When he finally tracked his friend down, Oaktrunk said, "Don't worry; it's Gina out there. But, something terrible has happened. I think her family is trapped by one of the humans, and they may have been shot."  
  
"Mara? Carol? Mark?"  
  
"I'm afraid so..."  
  
Arum swallowed a lump in his throat. "Let's go find out then, Oaktrunk."  
  
"Father? May I come too?"  
  
"No, Meadow. We'll be right back."  
  
Oaktrunk and Arum reemerged from the warren; Arum gave Gina a mournful look. "Gina, I'm so sorry," was all he could manage.  
  
"It's this way," said Gina tearfully.  
  
When they reached the barn and carefully crept inside, the scene that they found was grim. Mara was obviously dead, and at that point, their worst fears were realized. Their hearts sank, and tears came to their eyes. Gina was now weeping uncontrollably. But they still had to find the others.  
  
Carol was laying by some bales in a corner, also dead. Now, they knew that a similar fate must have befallen Mark, as well. And indeed, Gina's younger brother was found under some haphazardly-stacked bales with three bleeding wounds in him. However, Mark was still barely conscious.  
  
"Are... they..." he gasped, able only to utter one word per breath.  
  
Oaktrunk, in horror at Mark's wounds and in sorrow at the turn of events, replied, "I'm sorry, Mark, Your mother and Carol are..." He looked away, unable to say the word.  
  
Mark merely nodded in understanding, with tears in his eyes.  
  
"Mark... What have they done? Don't die, please..." Gina wept.  
  
"Sorry... Gina... didn't... stay..."  
  
"You couldn't have known, Mark. Just stay with me. Fight."  
  
"Should... have... known... Rabbit... bait... trap..."  
  
Gina remembered the squealing that they had heard. She tried to understand what Mark was saying. "There was a rabbit, wasn't there? To lure us? Where is it?"  
  
"Man... gun... kill... Mother... Carol... other... man... come... yelled..." Mark paused to catch his failing breath, then continued, "Seem... to... fight... other... man... took... rabbit..."  
  
"Two men? They argued? One of them took the rabbit away?" Gina was not only trying to find out what had happened, but was trying to keep Mark alive a little while longer, as though she believed that he would not die without answering a question.  
  
"Yes... Yes..."  
  
"Are they coming back? Was the rabbit all right?" Gina knew that Mark couldn't know the answer to at least the first of those questions.  
  
But, having held on long enough to see Gina again, Mark managed to whisper, "Good... bye... for... now..." and stopped fighting.  
  
After several minutes of silence except for Gina's sobbing, Oaktrunk finally spoke again. "Gina, I know I have no right to ask this now, but we need your help. I'm only asking because Grotto is in danger." Gina looked up at Oaktrunk and waited for him to go on. "It's the men. They've attacked Grotto warren recently, and we fear they're coming back to finish us all. And now, after what's happened here now, I am even more afraid. We're going to get those who can leave out of Grotto and get them to Cloudtree. We need you to help keep away the elil. Please, Gina. We need you."  
  
Gina paused, then replied, "I can't bring Mother or Mark or Carol back now," she said, "And I can't just stop living. I'll be glad to help, Oaktrunk."  
  
The walk back to Grotto was slow and quiet. When they reached the warren, Oaktrunk and Arum went back inside to explain to the others about Gina, while the young vixen waited outside.  
  
***  
  
"Friends, we need to leave now," said Arum after quieting the murmuring crowd.  
  
"Arum, the homba is out there," said one of the bucks, "What were you thinking, going back on the silf?"  
  
"Father, I tried to explain, but they thought I was just being silly," offered Meadow.  
  
"Well, then, I'll explain. Listen, everyone. That homba is not elil. Her name is Gina, and her mother Mara saved my Meadow's life - and Gina saved Oaktrunk." There was a collective gasp from the crowd, and Oaktrunk acknowledged the fact. Arum continued more somberly, "Unfortunately, Mara was just killed by the men, as were Gina's younger brother and sister, Mark and Carol."  
  
Meadow burst into tears. "No, father! Please say no!"  
  
Oaktrunk continued for Arum, "I'm afraid it's true, Meadow. But, Gina is still alive and well, and she's going to help us get to Cloudtree safe and sound."  
  
"I'm not going out there!" shouted a doe, and several others echoed the same.  
  
"Fine! Stay here then," said Oaktrunk angrily, "But anyone who wants to go to Cloudtree safely will come with us - and Gina."  
  
"Besides," cut in Arum, "Haven't you heard of the promised friend?" There was silence. Arum continued, "You believe in El-ahrairah's stories, don't you?"  
  
"Uh... yes, but..." sputtered another doe.  
  
"But, nothing. Meadow, Oaktrunk, and myself are proof of it. Our promised friend awaits to get us to Cloudtree." With that, Arum left the burrow and started up the run, followed by Meadow and Oaktrunk. Slowly, the other rabbits that were due to evacuate began to follow, too, one by one, some bucks urging their hesitant does on, some does urging their stubborn bucks on, and many does and bucks nudging their trembling kittens ahead of them.  
  
Finally, they all stood out on the silf, looking around at each other and the forlorn-looking homba that was right beside them. Despite having enough trust to emerge from the warren, many still were expecting Gina to pounce on them at any moment.  
  
"Gina? Are you ready?" asked Oaktrunk in a soothing voice.  
  
"Yes. We'd better be going, it looks like rain." Gina looked southward, where the sky had darkened to the point of being threatening. A patch of thick cloud had suddenly formed ahead of the distant main bank of cloud and was drifting directly toward them. Lightning would occasionally flicker through its midst and rumbles of thunder were beginning to reach the point of overpowering the usual noises of the nearby forest.  
  
***  
  
A limousine pulled into the farmyard, followed by two lorries carrying tanks. George got himself out of the limousine without waiting for Ken to open the door for him, then gestured at the lorry drivers. When they got out of their vehicles he called to them, "Thanks for dropping by so early. I just want this over with before it rains!"  
  
Winston had exited the farmhouse when he had seen his former boss return, and called out, "Hey, George, I thought you said the gassing was at four o'clock? It's only two."  
  
"What are you still doing here?"  
  
"I haven't had enough time yet! Do you realize how many things I have to find?"  
  
"Just get your things and leave, Winston."  
  
"My pleasure!"  
  
George's attention turned back to the exterminators. "Just drive up to the edge of the forest there. That's where those bloody rabbits are."  
  
***  
  
"There's two hrududil coming!" shouted one of the gathered bucks.  
  
"We have to leave now," urged Oaktrunk, starting off towards his home, "Let's not wait and see what they're going to do. Gina, if you would, keep watch from the back."  
  
"Of course, Oaktrunk." The grief in Gina's eyes were being overtaken by determination. Her family was lost, but she had friends to protect now.  
  
Oaktrunk led the way, with Arum and Meadow right behind, then followed by a number of families, and a few single does and bucks. Gina followed the rabbits at a distance, keeping a vigilant watch for any signs of animals that would normally target rabbits as a meal. Only now was she beginning to wonder how she might fend off an animal larger than herself, let alone several at once. She hoped that such a situation would not arise.  
  
All of the evacuees kept an eye on the approaching storm. A low cloud bank was rapidly developing and spreading out. It was a surreal sight: a deep purple that was almost black, with ripples that made it appear almost like a bizarrely coloured, upside-down ocean. Shreds of cloud that were tinged orange hung underneath, moving in various directions and speeds, swept by unseen winds. Despite the obvious heaviness of the cloud, relatively little rain appeared to be falling from it. As the cloud drew nearer, the land grew as dark as dusk, so that the lights of nearby farms began to turn on. Periodically, this darkness was pierced by a blinding lightning bolt that would leave a ghostly and broken image of itself hanging in the air for some seconds before vanishing, as though the air itself had caught fire, to be extinguished by the rain. The accompanying thunder grew from distant rumbles to deafening crackling roars.  
  
A quiet yet clearly audible hollow rushing sound emanated from the storm, similar to the sound of wind in the tops of tall trees. The roar was made especially evident by the deathly calm in the air.  
  
"Perhaps we should have waited at Grotto for the storm to pass," said one of the bucks.  
  
"I'd rather be rained on than find out what man has planned for Grotto," replied a doe, presumably the buck's mate.  
  
***  
  
"So, are you going to start soon, Bill?"  
  
"Mr. Castles, we're looking for all of the holes right now. We're plugging them up except for the two that the hoses go in. That'll keep the rabbits and the gas inside their warren," replied Bill, then turning to his co- worker, asked "How are we doing, James?"  
  
"I've covered the holes that I could find. Now we just have to set up the equipment," said his colleague.  
  
"Well, hurry up, it's going to rain soon!" George's command was followed by a bright flash and several seconds later by a crackling thunder that ended in a loud and almost satisfying boom.  
  
"Why the rush? We could always do this after the rain, Mr. Castles," observed Bill.  
  
"No, now! How long does it normally take?"  
  
"Twenty minutes of gas should be plenty to ensure that they're dead, sir," James replied, eyeing the darkening sky.  
  
"Great! Get going!"  
  
***  
  
"Get back! They're filling in the holes!"  
  
The warren became lost in a crowding of panicked voices and sobs from distraught marlis and kittens.  
  
"Restharrow, isn't this what they say it was like at Sandleford?" asked a trembling doe.  
  
"That's what the stories say," he replied, shouting as best he could above the din, "Everybody get as far down as you can! Stay away from the surface!"  
  
"Restharrow, I can do my job just fine, thank you!"  
  
"This is no time, Beet! We have to work together on this! Please!"  
  
Beet paused, then added, "You look after this half; I'll take the other side."  
  
"Consider it done... sir." replied Restharrow. Oh, I hope Fawn and the kittens are all right, he thought, and I hope I can see them again. Beet was simultaneously having the same thoughts towards his family.  
  
Both Restharrow and Beet searched along the upper runs of the warren, shooing any rabbit they found further down, until the heart of the warren was crowded to the maximum extent. Whenever they found a lost kitten, they took it the nearest marli that they could find and asked them to care for the sobbing little ones.  
  
Many of the rabbits had second thoughts about staying in Grotto at this point, but even if they thought that survival here was impossible for anyone, at the same time they knew that survival for their tiny kittens on the way to Grotto was also impossible. They knew that they couldn't live with themselves if they abandoned their crying kittens in the last minutes of their lives. And the bucks felt the same way toward their does. And so, all of them stayed, out of sheer duty - choosing honour over their own lives.  
  
************ 


	14. Part 14

Part Fourteen - Search and Destroy  
  
"The enemy boasted, 'I will pursue, I will overtake them, I will divide the spoils; I will gorge myself on them. I will draw my sword and my hand will destroy them.'" Exodus 15:9  
  
The day before the storm, after his fruitless search for his rebel daughter and her family, Pratt had to spend nearly until sunset tracking down the know-all of the fox world. He was extremely sore about having come so close to finding Mara, and was determined not to give up now.  
  
"Kate! I need a word with you!" he panted.  
  
"There you are, Pratt. I'd wondered where you'd gotten to." Kate stood up, while her friends remained half-asleep around her.  
  
"You were right; Mara's here with her family. I met with what must have been one of her daughters, yet I didn't even realize it at the time. She tricked me out of that big buck rabbit that I had almost caught. And I missed Mara herself by minutes. Obviously, they all left in a hurry. I tried to follow their scent, but they went through the river. I tracked the scent the other way back to their old den, but they didn't return there, either. They must have been running scared, those cowards!"  
  
"So, what more did you want from us? We've told you everything we know."  
  
"Where else have they been? Have you seen them around lately?"  
  
"Pratt, if they're not in their den anymore, your guess is as good as mine as to where they are. Maybe you shouldn't have taken off after that rabbit when we were taking you to Mara's den."  
  
Pratt's paused and pawed his ear thoughtfully. "Well, they couldn't have gotten that far away. It's just a matter of time. Especially if I can enlist you and your friends' help."  
  
Some of the other vixens looked up. Kate prodded, "Whatever do you mean?"  
  
"You vixens know this area very well, right? Better than anyone else, seeing as you are the known wanderers and news-gatherers?"  
  
"Yes, of course," said Kate in an almost insulted tone. Several of her friends nodded in agreement.  
  
"Both sides of the river?"  
  
"Yes, silly. The whole area."  
  
"And you know all of the foxes around, correct?"  
  
"Again, of course. Except for those loners with the rabbits, we don't know them that well." Kate looked back at one of her friends, who merely gave her an "I'm in it if you are" look.  
  
Pratt voice lowered. "This is what I'm proposing. Let's split up. We'll have search one section on the other side of the river - I'm certain that they fled over there. Then, if we somehow don't find them, we can come back to this side of the river and start the process again. I'm certain they've been seen by other foxes who will remember seeing them without knowing how they really live. We'll just ask around. If we start right now, we could find them by sunrise."  
  
"Now just hold it right there," said Kate in a tone of authority, "It's almost dark. You can go search yourself tonight if you wish. We are getting some sleep. If you want our help, you will wait until morning." Kate nearly refused Pratt's request outright due to his presumption that they would just follow along, perhaps because he was a dog fox of some years, and they were mainly young vixens. But, she didn't refuse, thinking this search of Pratt's would be quite interesting, even exciting, and something to talk about for years to come. She continued, "Besides, not many foxes around here are unaware of Mara's bizarre ways now - I've made sure of that."  
  
Pratt grunted, then nodded agreement to Kate's plan. "Fine, then," he said.  
  
"Good. We'll start tomorrow morning."  
  
Pratt lay down to get some rest, but not sleep - his mind was too busy with plans and anticipation to allow him sleep. That night, as the vixens slept soundly and he stayed awake, he fought the urge to just leave and start searching for Mara by himself. But, he resisted, knowing that his chances of success were far better if he were to be patient.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, as soon as it was light enough to see amongst the trees, Pratt got up and daringly woke Kate by poking her nose with his paw. The instant reaction was a swipe that left Pratt bleeding under one eye.  
  
"Just what do you think you are doing?" she snapped.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, pawing his new wound, "I just thought that we might get started."  
  
"We go when I say we go. Got it?"  
  
"Yes. Sorry," he repeated. He lay back down and waited for another hour, as Kate slept again. Finally, she woke up again and after glancing at Pratt, called out, "All right, vixens! Rise and shine!"  
  
They all raised their heads and looked at Kate for further instruction. They didn't have to wait long. "All right," began Kate, "Let's get this search going. We go in pairs. Pratt and myself will go together; the rest of you can split up however you want. We'll go upstream to the narrow point; half of us will cross the river there. Then we split up, spread out, some coming back downstream, some away from the river, and some further upstream." She noted Pratt's skeptical expression, "What are you looking at me like that for? Do you have any experience in searching?" Pratt shook his head. "Exactly," finished Kate, "I've searched for many a lost cub in my time. And I've almost always found them. So, we do this search my way. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, Kate. I'm glad to have your help," said Pratt, adding in his mind, you miserable little... Fortunately for Pratt, he kept the string of colourful words to his thoughts. Kate would have probably removed his liver otherwise.  
  
***  
  
When they arrived at the narrow part of the river described by Kate, she chose half of her friends to cross the river. Pratt wanted to cross too, certain that Mara was to be found on the opposite side. However, Kate wasn't about to follow any of Pratt's directions, so she insisted on searching on the near side. Of course, she also didn't want to get soaked. Pratt was forced to agree to Kate's decision, as he knew that he would be lost without her guidance. Still, he tried to persuade her.  
  
"Well, couldn't we just concentrate around the rockslide first?" complained Pratt, "I know Mara's closer to there; I want to find her today!"  
  
Kate was unmoved. "Tell me, Pratt, didn't you spend most of yesterday looking for her in that same area?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Then shut up and stick to my plan, seeing as how yours has failed miserably."  
  
After sulking and half-heartedly searching in silence for a few minutes, Pratt decided to change the subject.  
  
"Kate, have you ever had a family of your own?"  
  
The vixen returned an annoyed glare, somewhat taken aback at Pratt's nosiness. "If it's any of your business, I have better things to do than raise a bunch of whining cubs - like keeping the foxes around here informed of things."  
  
Pratt almost reminded Kate of the first time that they met, when Kate had pried him for all manner of personal information, almost right away. However, he thought that pointing out her hypocrisy may be dangerous. "Well," he replied, "Haven't any of your friends?"  
  
Kate sighed in an exasperated tone. Finally, she answered, "From time to time, one of them will settle down and raise a litter. After their cubs are old enough, they are eager to return and catch up on the news. We really prefer this life, you know. Independence, freedom, so many new experiences, so much to learn..." She looked back at Pratt and returned to her normal role of interrogator. "What about you, Pratt? How did you manage to get your Fera to let you come out here?"  
  
"Well, naturally, she was reluctant for me to leave, but I told her it was urgent. Fera had a weakness for Mara, she liked to defend her bizarre ways. I couldn't tell her what my real objective is - she wouldn't have stood for it. So, I just said I was going to say hello to a long-lost and dying friend. Fortunately, Fera didn't press it further."  
  
Pratt was relieved when Kate left it at that. He dreaded her interrogations.  
  
After perhaps hours of searching fruitlessly, distant shots could be heard. "Oh, wonderful! I hope that's not one of my friends," moaned Kate, "Pratt, if this search of yours kills someone I know, you'll answer to me."  
  
"Don't worry, Kate, I'm sure none of your friends could be caught by man," replied Pratt, then seizing on an opportunity to steer the search towards his preferred location, continued, "But perhaps we should just make our way back towards where the shots came from."  
  
"Of course, Pratt, towards the rockslide where you lost Mara, right?"  
  
"Hey, I'm just as worried about your friends as you are."  
  
"I'm sure," grumbled Kate. She hated to concede to Pratt's wish, but she was somewhat concerned for her friends. They turned back, though Kate was not careful to hide her reluctance.  
  
While they were slowly (thanks to Kate) and gingerly picking their way back towards where the shots had sounded, an especially loud boom of thunder interrupted their concentration. The still-distant storm was evidently heading their way, but wasn't going to hit for some time.  
  
"We'd better hurry," continued Pratt, "I don't like the look of that one." Another good reason to go back, he thought..  
  
When they neared the area, perhaps an hour after the shots, they decided to check the farm to see if they could find any evidence of what had happened. They searched around the farm, quickly catching the scent of Mara and her cubs. The went to a large building with an open door, and looked inside. The same grisly scene that had saddened Gina, Oaktrunk, and Arum brought first shock then joy to Pratt. There lay Mara, Mark, and Carol - all dead.  
  
"Well, that takes care of that," smiled Pratt, "I guess our search is over." He paused. "But, wait. Where is that other cub of hers?"  
  
"Yes, Pratt," said Kate matter-of-factly, "She had three cubs. There are only two of them here - Mark and Carol, it looks like."  
  
"That leaves Gina! She's the one that robbed me of that fine meal yesterday," snarled Pratt, "Since she isn't one of the ones here. This isn't finished yet."  
  
"What are you planning?"  
  
"Let's wait here. I suspect Gina will be back."  
  
"Oh, she's probably dead, Pratt," sighed Kate.  
  
"Then I want to see her dead! Look around some more!"  
  
"No searching. We'll wait," retorted Kate, who wanted to call off the search and get back to her normal routine, but also wanted to see this matter ended decisively, "But not here. Let's wait outside where it's safe and we can watch this building."  
  
Thanks to their concentration on the barn, and the ample grass and bushes which they used as their cover, they failed to notice a number of rabbits and a fox leave a nearby warren a little while after they started their vigilant wait.  
  
Not long after, they watched nervously as men and vehicles made their way towards the edge of the forest nearby. "What are they up to?" asked Kate, watching the sudden activity.  
  
"I don't care. They can't see us here. Keep waiting."  
  
***  
  
The refugees were suffering a much slower pace than Oaktrunk had first feared. Many of the kittens grew weary quickly; the entire group would then slow to their pace, as the group had to remain together. No one forced the kittens ahead, however, as that would likely have only caused them to be in even worse shape. A reasonably long while had passed since leaving Grotto, but they hadn't even covered half the distance that Oaktrunk had planned on, even using conservative estimates. In fact, they could still hear occasional noises from the direction of Grotto, presumably the activities of the warren's destroyers.  
  
Some of the adult rabbits tried carrying the most tired kittens, but they were large enough to provide a difficult load to bear. Arum remembered carrying Meadow quite some distance, but she had been much tinier than these refugee kittens. In fact, Meadow should never have been outside of her burrow at that age - but they had been forced out, and of course it was only Mara that had prevented Meadow's death.  
  
They kept watch on the approaching clouds. More intense shafts of windblown rain were now visible, sweeping the land in the distance, and illuminated by ever-increasing lighting strikes. The nearest edge of the darkest cloud was now nearly overhead, increasing their urgency and nervousness. They had been wary about another major threat - elil - but it seemed that the approaching storm had kept their enemies in their nests and dens. It seemed that perhaps the storm itself would be their greatest threat and their greatest protection, both at the same time.  
  
This, however, was too good to be true. Gina, keeping an alert vigilance, soon spotted what she had most feared: two foxes in the distance behind them, obviously on the trail of something - no doubt the Grottons.  
  
************ 


	15. Part 15

Part Fifteen - Defence  
  
"Deliver me from my enemies, O God; protect me from those who rise up against me. Deliver me from evildoers and save me from bloodthirsty men." Psalm 59:1-2, NIV  
  
"Oaktrunk! I think we've got trouble," called Gina. The lead rabbit stopped and turned around.  
  
"What do you mean, 'trouble'?" he asked nervously.  
  
"There's a pair of foxes - hombil - back there. They haven't seen us, but I'm sure they've caught your scent. Let's get to the place we found yesterday in the river where we crossed to lose Pratt."  
  
"Agreed," replied Oaktrunk, "It shouldn't take too long to get there. Come on, everybody, quickly! "  
  
When the refugees arrived at the river, those who hadn't seen the crossing before looked on in apprehension. The river was quite wide at this point, but its current was also quite slow. Large stones, smoothed by centuries of water flowing over them, studded the river bed from bank to bank. Most of the stones were submerged by a thin, ever-moving blanket of water, while some broke the surface and were nearly dry. Here, it was possible for a rabbit using care to cross without getting more than their paws wet.  
  
Gina looked into the woods again. "Get everyone across, Oaktrunk, then wait for me to come back."  
  
"Gina, where are you going?" asked Oaktrunk, confused.  
  
"I've got to get those... hombil off of your trail. I've got an idea."  
  
"But we need you..."  
  
"I won't be long. You're far safer at the other bank without me for now than you are with me, being trailed by two and maybe more hombil. I want to make sure the coast is clear. Then, we can go straight to your Cloudtree warren."  
  
"All right, but hurry," said Oaktrunk, on the edge of despair.  
  
***  
  
Gina had never seen these two vixens before, and she hoped that they hadn't seen her before, either. She thought carefully about what to do next, then, taking a deep breath, emerged from her cover as though she was just walking through.  
  
"Oh, hello there. I've just escaped from a farm. Do you know of any good rabbit hunting grounds nearby? If you don't, I sure do," baited Gina.  
  
"Rabbits? Well, we manage to catch one every now and then," answered one, giving Gina an odd look.  
  
Her friend was openly hostile. "What's it to you, stranger? Do you wish to pilfer our rabbit supply?"  
  
The first fox gave her companion a "do you mind?" look, then said, "Sorry about that. Sandy's a bit touchy at the best of times. You should see her when she has cubs." Sandy shot over a withering glare, then walked indignantly some distance away and lay down, remaining out of the conversation. The more hospitable vixen continued, "Anyway, my name's Becky. What's yours?"  
  
"Linda."  
  
"Good to meet you, Linda. Did you say that you escaped from a farm?"  
  
Gina gambled that she could make up a story believable to foxes that may well have had a good idea as to man's activity in the area. "Yes, I was locked up in a huge building by man. There are lots of other kinds of animals there, too. The man must like collecting and keeping us. And if you want rabbits, I know how to get plenty. There's rabbits beyond counting there, and it's easy to break in." That should get their attention away from the Grottons, and explain any rabbit scent on me, thought Gina with satisfaction, then began instructions towards a fictitious place: "You just go over to-"  
  
Becky broke in, "Actually, rabbits aren't our target at the moment. We're looking for a fox family."  
  
Gina's heart skipped. "Oh? Are they lost?"  
  
"Geographically, no. Morally, yes," replied Becky, "You see, these particular foxes seem to think of rabbits as friends rather than dinner."  
  
"You can't be serious!" Gina surprised herself by keeping a genuine expression. She was glad to have given Becky a pseudonym. Just to be sure, she asked, "What are their names?"  
  
"I'm afraid it's true. Kate - she's the news-gatherer around here - and some of her friends saw them a few days ago. Now Kate and a dog fox named Pratt have put us on duty to find them. Their names? The mother is Mara, and the cubs were... Sandy, what were the rabbit-hugger cubs' names, again?"  
  
Sandy looked back coldly, then finally replied, "Mark, Carol, and Gina." She put her head back down and continued moping.  
  
"She's testy, but she has a good memory," Becky sighed, then continued, "Anyway, that's the situation. Keep an eye out, won't you?"  
  
"Certainly. Well, I guess I'll be going," said Gina quickly, turning back to the river. She knew everything that she needed to know. If they weren't after the Grottons, then they weren't a threat. It was Pratt that was the threat, especially with an organized search going on, and he couldn't be tricked into going to a dreamt-up rabbit farm. And sooner or later, some of the searchers would recognize her, and that would likely be the end of it. She had to leave the area now. Just get the Grottons to Cloudtree and go as far as the Great Sea if need be, she thought.  
  
"Wait a minute, Linda! Where are those rabbits, again?" Sandy had walked over, and was being noticeably more civil.  
  
Gina cringed. "Uh... Just go over to the rockslide in the river. Cross there, then go straight out for about-"  
  
"No, no, take us there!" Sandy was getting worked up into a voracious frenzy.  
  
"Let her go, Sandy. We've got to find those foxes first," chided Becky.  
  
"Oh, bury Pratt's little mission," fumed Sandy, "It's a waste of time. Besides, we can go to this farm and say we were still searching, if anyone asks."  
  
"But, we're supposed to search this area now," replied Becky, "If we just run off, it's going to be trouble."  
  
"We can just say that we were chasing Mara and her confounded cubs to the farm," replied Sandy, stressing again, "if anyone sees us and asks." Seeing Becky's indecision, she added, "Besides, I haven't had a decent meal for two days! All this searching is making me hungry! And don't tell me you aren't in the same way!"  
  
Gina was still trying to sneak away when she heard Becky call over to her, "On second thought, Linda, Sandy as a point. Maybe just show us where the farm is, and we can resume our search later."  
  
Now Gina's mind was racing for a way out of her situation. What have I done? Now I have to show them where- And what if they know who I am, and are just trying to trap me? She shook off her paranoia and concentrated. I'll take them to the farm by Grotto. Surely the men are still there. If they get scared off, I can get away.  
  
The three foxes made their way along the river bank, with Gina in the lead, until they reached the rockslide. Gina then started away from the river towards the farm.  
  
"Wait a minute," protested Sandy, "You said to cross the river."  
  
Gina cringed again. "Oh, sorry. I forgot how many times I had crossed the river when I was trying to lose the men. It's just this way. You can hear the men around."  
  
As they arrived on the scene, Becky quickly crouched down in the grass. "Are you crazy, Linda? There are men everywhere!"  
  
"Well, what did you expect? It's a farm. Now, do you see those buildings over there? The rabbits are just in there. Are you as hungry as I am?" With that, Gina dashed out of the grass and toward the buildings, scampering within plain sight of the men, and the cold gaze of one that she recognized as her family's killer.  
  
***  
  
"Argh! There's another fox! I thought I got them all in the barn! Hey, guys, when you're done with the rabbits, would you mind helping me get rid of these blasted foxes?"  
  
"Sure, Mr. Castles, but first things first. We're almost done the equipment checks; we should be starting any minute now," replied James, while checking one of the valves.  
  
Not satisfied with that, George started towards the house, hoping that Winston had left the rifle there after picking it up off of the barn floor.  
  
***  
  
"Pipit! Fawn! You can't go back!"  
  
"No, Oaktrunk," said Pipit firmly, "We've made up our minds. We know that everyone here can take care of our kittens well. We have to be with our mates now - we should never have let them talk us into leaving." Fawn nodded her agreement.  
  
"You're staying here!" snapped Oaktrunk, "Gina will be back soon, and then we can be safely at Cloudtree soon enough." He started towards them, but they backed away.  
  
"You can't make us stay. I'm sorry, but we have to go now." They turned in an instant and began bounding across the river, despite the slippery stones. As Fawn was further ahead, Oaktrunk leapt at Pipit in an effort to pin her down, but missed and landed in the cold water. Sputtering, he scrambled onto the nearest rock and watched in resignation as the pair vanished back into the woods, towards their doomed warren.  
  
"Arum, why didn't you help me?" demanded Oaktrunk.  
  
"Let them go," replied Arum quietly, "Let them be together with their mates. Perhaps Grotto can find a way to survive."  
  
***  
  
"Pratt! Over there!"  
  
Pratt snapped his concentration away from the barn towards where Kate was staring. Now, he, too saw a fox running across the open towards the barn. As the fox drew nearer, it began to register with him. "That's... That's... That's Gina! I won't forget that face! She's come back! I told you she would!" With that, Pratt sprang from hiding and tore snarling across the grass towards his unsuspecting target.  
  
***  
  
Just as Gina had hoped, her "friends" were not following her. This is working. Now, I just have to sneak the long way around and get back to the Grottons. She looked back at the men, then turned to see the one who had shot her family walking back towards one of the buildings. If he's going for a gun, that'll scare the other vixens off for sure, and I'll be home free.  
  
Just then, Gina heard the swift rustling of grass. Just as she turned to the source of the noise, she was hit in the midsection and bowled once over completely by something that had great speed - and razor teeth that tore into her back. Then, she recognized the voice of Pratt, choked with rage.  
  
"This is it, Gina! Thought I wouldn't find you, right? Well, now you'll be with the rest of your pathetic family!"  
  
Gina turned her head to see Pratt's glaring eyes and he leapt for her throat with his jaws wide. She quickly snapped her head back and out of the way, and as Pratt's teeth dug into dirt and grass, she grabbed Pratt's right ear with her teeth and managed to rip half of it away. Pratt yelped in pain and rage as blood trickled down into his eye. Gina struck again quickly, grabbing Pratt's muzzle in her mouth from the top, so that her attacker was not able to bite back at her. She hung on as Pratt thrashed back and forth, causing even more grievous wounds to his nose. Finally, he resorted to tearing at Gina's body with his claws, but at least Gina was able to tear back with her own. She had the advantage for the moment, and both knew it.  
  
One of the last things that Gina wanted to do was kill another fox, especially her own grandfather. However, she knew that Pratt would not give up, and she had no doubt that he wanted her dead. She knew it wasn't likely that she would be able to kill him by holding onto his nose; that grim task would probably require a deadly bite to the throat. But, if she did let go of his nose to go for his throat, then her advantage would be lost in an instant. As Gina was pondering what to do next, she heard a sharp and familiar sound: a gunshot.  
  
***  
  
The exterminators pointed and laughed at the snarling and tussling foxes. "I suppose they're fighting over who gets the rabbits, do you think?" observed Bill.  
  
"When we're done, there's not going to be any rabbits to be had," James replied, "And here comes Mr. Castles again. Let's see how good a shot he is."  
  
***  
  
"Why is Pratt attacking Linda like that?" said Sandy, confused. She and Becky lay peering out from some bushes a safe distance from the men and their trucks.  
  
"He must have found the rabbit barn that she was talking about, and now he wants the rabbits to himself, I bet," replied Becky.  
  
"Well, that's just downright selfish and rude," snarled Sandy, "I say we help Linda!"  
  
Before they could join in the fight, however, they saw a man emerge from a building carrying a familiar long stick. They immediately shrank back down in fear. They fled as the shooting began.  
  
***  
  
As soon as Pratt left her company, Kate was only curious to see if Gina would now finally be finished. She watched the fight from a distance, and as she saw Pratt beginning to come out on the losing end, she pondered joining in to help Pratt. However, one of the men came back into view and began firing a gun at the combatants. Kate didn't stay around to watch the results.  
  
***  
  
George was able to hit the foxes in the barn, with a range of a few feet, but now he was trying to hit two targets that were at least a hundred feet away. The first shot thudded into the ground in front of the battling and bleeding foxes. The two foxes froze, and one leapt into some nearby bushes and out of sight. Refusing to give up, George fired another shot blindly into the foliage to where he thought the fox had gone, but could hear that he had missed his target. Then, he turned his attention to the other fox.  
  
To his surprise, it was bolting straight towards the exterminators. He lowered the rifle and watched the fox dart between the surprised men and disappear.  
  
***  
  
The shot pierced the air and Gina immediately released her grip on Pratt. She briefly considered that Pratt might take advantage, but he immediately bounded into some bushes and was gone. Gina saw the man raise the gun again and shoot towards where Pratt had fled. Thinking quickly, Gina darted towards the two men by the trucks, who had no guns that she could see. She gambled that a man wouldn't shoot towards other men. The gamble paid off. She heard no more shots, and ran between the two men and back towards Grotto. Thankfully, there was no sign of either Sandy or Becky; both had presumably already scampered away.  
  
***  
  
"All right, everything looks fine, so let's put those hoses in the rabbit holes and get this over with," puffed James.  
  
The two men dragged the hoses from the backs of their lorries and inserted them into the holes. After ensuring that the operation was air-tight, they went back to their vehicles and each reached for the nozzle to begin the flow of pressurized gas. "Ready if you are, then," said Bill.  
  
James didn't reply, but merely pointed to the roiling western sky. The storm had strengthened and advanced exceedingly rapidly as they had been busy preparing the gas; it was now evident that there was no longer time for their operation before they were hit. They had been so busy that they had become ignorant of the blinding lightning strikes and the now continuous roar of thunder. Now, they barely had enough time to jump into their trucks to avoid getting soaked.  
  
George had already seen the advancing wall of white from the west, and without bothering to ask the busy exterminators or his chauffeur if they preferred shelter, had quickly retreated to the safety of the house. He also didn't bother to check on the whereabouts of Winston, who was busy in the sizable greenhouse, gathering some of his tools and other last-minute items to put into his truck before leaving George's farm for good. Winston wasn't going to leave anything for George that he didn't have to.  
  
***  
  
WEATHER BULLETIN  
  
ISSUED BY THE MET.OFFICE AT 1500 UTC  
  
SEVERE THUNDER STORM WARNING IN FORCE  
  
ISSUED FOR COUNTIES HAMPSHIRE, WILTSHIRE, BERKSHIRE, SURREY, WEST SUSSEX, EAST SUSSEX, AND GREATER LONDON OF ENGLAND  
  
SEVERE THUNDER STORMS HAVE INTENSIFIED AND ARE NOW SWEEPING INTO SOUTH EASTERN ENGLAND. ACCOMPANYING THESE STORMS ARE HEAVY BURSTS OF RAIN, HAIL, DANGEROUS GALES, AND INTENSE LIGHTNING. CITIZENS IN THESE AREAS ARE ASKED TO REMAIN INDOORS FOR THEIR SAFETY UNTIL THE DANGER PASSES.  
  
THESE STORMS ARE MOVING DUE NORTH AND ARE EXPECTED TO RETAIN THEIR STRENGTH AS THEY MOVE TO NORTH OF LONDON.  
  
PLEASE STAY TUNED FOR UPDATED WARNINGS AS THEY ARE ENDED OR PUT INTO FORCE.  
  
END TRANSMISSION  
  
************ 


	16. Part 16

Part Sixteen - Storm  
  
"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13, NIV  
  
"There she is, Oaktrunk - over there!" Arum was looking towards a gap in some bushes on the opposite bank of the river. Immediately, Oaktrunk saw Gina as well, as she emerged from the foliage and gingerly padded across the stones in the river.  
  
"Gina! What happened?" cried Oaktrunk, noticing her numerous wounds.  
  
"Pratt found me - that's what happened," Gina replied miserably, "He was scared off by one of the men with a gun, but I suspect he's following me. Get everyone into the woods and stay on this side of the river. We've no time. We'll have to take a long way around to Cloudtree."  
  
One of the does gestured with a nod of her head, "That's not all we have to worry about." In the distance, but approaching rapidly, was the first assault of the storm. It was one of the most frightening scenes that most of the Grottons had ever seen, next to one of the many murderous tantrums of the former Chief Cypress.  
  
"Is that rain? It doesn't look like rain..." pondered another doe.  
  
"That's more than just rain," replied Oaktrunk, listening to the growing sound of wind. Soon, the trees in the distance bowed over dramatically, like tall grass in a gusty breeze. The bowing of the trees moved rapidly towards them, like an eerie wave of water, as the trees that first fell victim began to blur and vanish in an all-encompassing wall of greyish- white.  
  
As the sudden gale struck the refugee band, leaves, sizable branches, dirt, and even small stones became airborne. The first huge drops of rain were whipped parallel to the ground and within moments became great driving sheets of water. Embedded in the rain were balls of ice that stung greatly as they occasionally scored a direct hit on one of the group even as they attempted to find shelter from this latest assault. It was now only just possible to see the violently swaying trees on the opposite side of the river where they had crossed from.  
  
"We'd better get into thicker woods - there's bound to be better shelter there!" shouted Gina over the howl of the wind in the tortured trees.  
  
"I'm with you," replied Oaktrunk, wincing as a hailstone pelted his back, "Let's get moving!"  
  
Somehow, Oaktrunk, Arum, Gina, and several of the Grotton bucks that were with the group managed to guide the soaked and stumbling group up a gradually rising path that followed the river bank and soon led into a dense wood atop a sheer fifty-foot rocky ledge that formed the river bank further downstream. As they climbed, great gusts of wind would send some of the group, especially the kittens, sprawling and tumbling along in the mud. Eventually, the path curved away from the cliff and deeper into the wood, where wind-whipped trees stopped the gale's main force, but still allowed rain and hailstones to pelt down.  
  
A tree no more than two hundred feet away was struck by lightning; the ear- splitting crack causing many of the kittens to squeal and try to crawl under their marlis for shelter. A flicker of flame appeared inside the partially-hollow trunk halfway up the stricken tree, but this lasted only seconds as the storm's deluge and gale quenched it.  
  
"This isn't safe; let's try further down there," Arum said, nodding with his head to a fork in the path that descended down the other side of the rocky ridge and disappeared into the thick forest, "I think if we go far enough, the cliff will go back down to the river level further downstream, and we will still be further away from that Pratt friend of yours."  
  
"Ha! So you consider me a friend, do you?"  
  
Arum and the rest of the group looked around for the source of the voice. Gina, who recognized the voice well, was struck with terror. Another lightning bolt savaged a tree that was close enough for the same loud crack as before to be heard.  
  
Unshaken by the thunder, Pratt continued, emerging from his cover. "Isn't it just grand how a fox can track a bunch of rabbits even in weather like this? Oh, but I mustn't take all of the credit myself. One of the dear vixens of the area saw you all coming up this way. I suppose you couldn't have been too difficult for her to spot save for the rain. What was her name again? Oh, yes... Janice. I'll have to mention her to Kate. She's always looking for good scouts." Pratt looked with a sneer at Oaktrunk and issued in a low snarl, "Just like I'm always looking for a good meal. And it's so good to meet you again. And I do mean meat, my friend." Pratt laughed with a sinister chuckle, and Oaktrunk closed his eyes and contemplated that particular dark play on words again.  
  
Pratt looked around at the Grottons, who were staring at him in terror and with some state of resignation. They were cold, wet, and tired, and were just waiting for Pratt to seize one of their number and be gone. The rest would live. Oaktrunk knew this, as well. "You had me by rights before," muttered the Cloudtree Owsla Captain, trying to hide his fear, "Let me be your dinner. Just leave the rest of them alone."  
  
"Oh, but of course," replied Pratt in a condescending tone, "I wouldn't have it any other way." He paused. "Mind, you, I really should save one of the precious little ones here for Janice." He peered coldly at a nearby doe kitten, who began sobbing and buried her face into her petrified marli's side. He continued slowly glancing around, sizing up other kittens, knowing they were the most terrified at the moment. "I know you're tired. You can't run far. Especially you delicious little fluffy snacks. Oh, and Kate and all of her friends, too. They get one each. After all, they helped me find you!" Upon the last word, said in a shriek of rage, Pratt snapped his head around and pierced Gina with a glare from his blood-red eyes. Nearby, lightning turned the storm's darkness into bright day again, followed by a crackling roar of thunder, which was soon lost in the howl of the gale in the swaying tree tops and the ongoing thunder of more distant lightning strikes.  
  
"You don't frighten me in the least, Pratt," hissed Gina, "I would have killed you had it not been for that man and his gun." Looking at Pratt's destroyed right ear, his torn nose, and his numerous bloody scratches, she added with a strange mixture of pity and glee, "Look at you. You're a mess."  
  
"If you're not scared, then why did you run like a pathetic little rabbit?" fumed Pratt, as he halved the distance between himself and Gina with small but quick steps. By preparing to pounce and raising his fur in aggression despite its being drenched, he made it clear to all present that he was prepared to finish this business once and for all. He added in an ominous snarl, "Do you have any last words of wisdom, oh friend of the bunnies?"  
  
***  
  
Pipit and Fawn knew that the storm would be upon them before they could make it back to Grotto. As the saw the ominous wall of rain and wind approach, the ducked into the hollowed trunk of a centuries-old but still- living cedar and hoped for the best.  
  
The opening of the trunk faced away from the blasting gale, so they were able to remain relatively dry. However, after several minutes of violent gusts, they heard the rotting wood of the tree beginning to crumble from the strain. Suddenly, the tree snapped just above the heads of the huddled does with a series of groans and cracks, and was laid out flat upon the ground with a crash. The leaves caught the wind as the tree went down, so that the tree was actually blown ahead by several feet, sparing the squealing rabbits from being trapped or impaled my sharp splinters, but exposing them to the rain which continued to pelt down furiously. They could feel the dulled impacts of numerous wind-whipped hailstones smacking into the wood of the destroyed tree's stump as they huddled desperately against each other and what was left of their shelter and waited.  
  
***  
  
As Winston was gathering up some of the last of his garden tools, he looked out of the many windows again. The storm had taken a turn for the worse in just the few minutes since he last checked. A low bank of cloud was rolling towards the farm, bringing with it an ominously white wall of rain and likely hail. He didn't like the chances of a building with hundreds of panes of glass providing good shelter in a storm like this, so he hastened out of the greenhouse and towards the farm house.  
  
Just as he got inside, he thought of going to get the exterminators, as well, but as he looked back outside, he saw them jumping into their lorries. Then, the gale, and rain struck, blowing dirt and mud through the air. Winston slammed the door shut, and heard the roar of the intense rain against the roof and windward walls of the house. Occasionally, a bang could be heard as a hailstone bounced off of the building. These bangs became suddenly louder and more frequent as the storm intensified to a frightening degree. Almost immediately, the bangs were accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, and wind-driven hailstones the size of cricket balls began slicing into the house.  
  
George rushed past Winston, with terror in his voice, "I remember a storm like this when I was visiting Texas! We've got to get downstairs!"  
  
"This house doesn't have any 'downstairs', George!"  
  
"Oh, no! We're dead!" As George began looking around at the hail piling up on the floor, the electricity suddenly failed. This made George even more nervous.  
  
"Just relax! I did have a root cellar put in by the greenhouse for the vegetables, try that!", snorted Winston. He had seen tornadoes in books and television, but wasn't expecting one now, as he had never seen one in person in all of his sixty years in the south of England. However, he had to try to quench George's paranoia to maintain his own sanity. Winston handed George the key and watched with amusement as his former boss dashed back outside and sprinted towards the cellar, his curses disappearing into the storm as he was pelted by rain and hail.  
  
***  
  
James and Bill had to duck under the dashboards of their lorries as their windscreens first cracked crazily, then crumbled inward under the onslaught of the wind-driven hail. There they remained for the duration of the storm, getting soaked as the gusty winds buffeted their lorries about as though an angry mob was outside.  
  
***  
  
Ken had remained in the limousine, as instructed by his boss, during the entire time that the rabbits' extermination had been set up and the storm had been approaching. Obviously, George was expecting to leave fairly soon. Ken was busying himself with reading Richard Adams' novel "Watership Down" while he waited, and briefly considered the irony that what was happening now was eerily reminiscent of what had happened to Sandleford Warren in the book. Waiting for George was no problem to him, as he was often waiting on George for hours on end. At least he was paid fairly decently to read books.  
  
Ken was so absorbed in the book that he didn't realize a storm was hitting until the wind began to gust and great drops of rain began to pelt the car. The rain made enough noise to drown out his thoughts, but the hail that rapidly increased in size and intensity made it sound as though he were in the middle of D-Day. He watched nervously as the windscreen began to form small spiders' webs, but the bullet-proof glass (installed on George's orders) held fast.  
  
***  
  
"Silflay hraka!" Gina uttered the lapine curse and leapt at Pratt with a snarl. This time, however, Pratt did not allow Gina to get any position of advantage. He guessed that Gina would try to attack first, and leapt back quickly. As Gina landed, she lost her footing in the rain-slicked grass and stumbled onto her side. Pratt made no mistake and immediately seized her throat his jaws, and gleefully tasted her blood. Gina's yelp of pain was gargled, and Pratt knew that his mission was close to being accomplished.  
  
At that moment, Pratt felt a blow and sharp pain as claws raked his left eye. He shut his eyes and was hit again; this time his muzzle sustained another gash. Gina must somehow have twisted around and gotten in two lucky scratching kicks. Not wanting to receive another gash, Pratt hoped that Gina was wounded enough and released his grip. Gina remained inert on the ground, with blood pooling around her throat and running away in diluted rivulets with the rainwater. Then, with his good eye, he saw what had struck the blows.  
  
Arum was crouched in the grass and mud before him, glaring with red-hot eyes and holding up a front paw, with fox fur clinging to the extended and blood-stained claws. "What's the matter, homba? Scared of a little rabbit?" he taunted.  
  
Pratt paused and looked at this unusually brazen rabbit before him, and then without bothering to reply, leapt at him. Arum easily bounded away, calling back taunts and daring him to follow and fight. Pratt's pride could not allow this rabbit to live, so he pursued, to the edge of the nearby rocky ledge. Arum was out on an outcropping of rock, exposed to the wind, rain and the now-abating hail.  
  
It had been Arum's last-second plan to goad Pratt into following him as he climbed down the cliff, where hopefully his pursuer would lose his grip and fall to the rocky river bed below. However, there was no obvious way down without him falling as well, so Arum stood, peering down the cliff and at the slowly advancing Pratt, while pondering his mistake. Then, he saw that they were no longer alone.  
  
***  
  
Gina knew that she was seriously wounded. Her stumble and caused her any hope of gaining combat advantage, and now she was barely able to breathe. The thought that she was about to die hadn't even time to register when Pratt stopped his assault. She remained still, wondering if Pratt thought that she was dead, and if she should try to attack when he least expected it. However, she could hear Arum's taunts and then Pratt's leaving in pursuit of his new target.  
  
After a few moments, Gina slowly got to her feet and stumbled after her attacker. She was beginning to feel dizzy from loss of blood, and her vision was blurring. She soon arrived at the ledge, and saw that Pratt had Arum trapped on a jutting slab of stone at the cliff's edge. Without thinking further, she mustered her strength and ran straight for Pratt.  
  
Just as Pratt heard her approach and began to turn, Gina plowed into his side and pushed him along the wet rock and, without stopping, over the edge. Before they both toppled over the cliff, Pratt reached out in desperation and caught Arum with an outstretched paw. Arum, too, was sent over the side.  
  
Pratt landed first, on his back, with the unmistakable sound of cracking bones. Gina immediately landed on top of him. Pratt issued a loud yelp that echoed up and down the river and then never moved again, while Gina managed to crawl a short distance away, leaving a bloody trail, before passing out.  
  
Arum, just before he toppled over the cliff, glanced down and pushed out with his hind legs, hoping to clear the rocks below and land in the now rain-swollen river. He succeeded, and felt the shock of hitting cold water from a dizzying height. He was momentarily fighting the water, striking out with his paws, and finally surfaced again. He drew in a much-craved breath of air with a gasp and struggled to stay afloat as he was swept downstream.  
  
***  
  
"Dear, you should see what's coming!" breathed Crystal as she hastened into their burrow.  
  
"Let me guess - it's going to rain?" General Hrairah replied sleepily, "It's been due, hasn't it?" He followed his mate out onto the silf and glanced at the approaching storm. "Great Frith, even I wasn't expecting this!" he exclaimed, adding quickly, "Dear, is everybody in the warren yet?"  
  
"Yes," Crystal replied, "Everyone is accounted for... except for Oaktrunk, of course." She looked down at this last comment.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, dear, I'm sure that he just had a lot to talk about at Grotto. I'm sure he's fine; he'll be waiting out the weather and be back tomorrow, perhaps."  
  
"But it's been two days! He should have been back yesterday, no later! If he's been taken by elil..."  
  
General Hrairah nuzzled his mate, and soothed, "Our Oaktrunk taken by elil? Not bloody likely! Come, dear, let's get inside before we get soaked."  
  
***  
  
Arum was tiring in the life-sucking cold water. He tried grabbing at floating debris, but was too weak to keep a grip. He fought towards shore, but the current was stronger at the river's centre, and held him fast. The rain continued to pelt down, and the odd hailstone splashed nearby. Lightning continuously lit up the sky and ground, briefly illuminating the wildly swaying trees towering over him on both sides of the river.  
  
So this must be what it is like to die, he thought. He was now barely able to keep his nose clear of the water, and the cold had penetrated him to the point of dulling any pain. Briefly, he saw what must have been his lost mate Mazarine, with three kittens at her side, standing on the river's bank, watching him pass by. He could make out a pleasant smile on her face, as if she was waiting patiently for him. "Don't worry, dear. It's going to be all right." Arum didn't even wonder how he could hear her voice so clearly, when her mouth wasn't even moving.  
  
He held his breath as he slipped under the water. Kicking weakly, he managed to break the surface again, and took a deep gasp. He again became submerged, but he couldn't regain the surface. His lungs burned for air, and he could hold out no longer. He saw the lightning criss-crossing the dark sky through the water above him, then gasped down a lung full of water. The cold and choking agony of the water was soon replaced by an eerie warmth that seemed to grow from within him until it occupied his entire body. The warmth was sleep.  
  
As Arum awoke, he found himself on a field of grass, with Frith shining almost directly above him. That's strange, I've never seen Frith that high in the sky before, he thought - then he considered how he had escaped the river. Is this?... Am I?... He saw a rabbit approaching him, with a warm smile on his face and a curious twinkle in his eyes. Though he had never seen this rabbit before, he somehow seemed familiar.  
  
"Hello, Arum. You appear to be lost, my friend."  
  
"How do you know my name? Who are you? Where am I?"  
  
The stranger's warm smile grew. "I'll answer those questions in reverse order. You are just outside of El-ahrairah's warren. My name is Hazel- rah. And, I trust that this will answer your first question."  
  
Arum was dumbfounded. "The Hazel-rah? From Watership Down? I'm really dead, aren't I? Where is Mazarine?"  
  
"Let me explain, Arum. El-ahrairah asked me to meet with you. You're not supposed to be here."  
  
"I can't enter his warren? Never?" Arum's voice choked.  
  
"No, no," soothed Hazel-rah, "It's not that. It's simply that you've just got so much to do yet. Here..." The former Chief of Watership Down reached out with his right paw and touched Arum on his nose. A warm sensation again flooded his body, not unlike that which he had felt in the river, which couldn't have been more than a few minutes earlier.  
  
Arum wouldn't recall his encounter with Hazel-rah again during his lifetime.  
  
***  
  
"Meadow!" breathed Oaktrunk, "It's Arum! He's fallen into the river!" He turned to the Grottons and choked out, "And I think Gina and Pratt are dead!"  
  
Meadow gasped and tears began to well in her eyes. She didn't hear Oaktrunk speak of the hombil, after learning about Arum. "Father?" she sobbed, "No... No... We have to save him!"  
  
At the news of the fate of Gina and Pratt, the other rabbits were both agonized and relieved. Wanting to see for themselves, they followed Oaktrunk back to the cliff. Both Gina and Pratt lay there on the rocks, appearing to all to be dead. Oaktrunk and the others saw that Meadow was missing; most guessed immediately as to where she had gone.  
  
Oaktrunk and the Grottons followed the path in search of Meadow all of the way to the river bank. "She must have tried going downstream from here, along the bank," guessed Oaktrunk, "Since no doubt she was looking for her father."  
  
The others nodded silently, and followed Oaktrunk along the side of the river. The hail was no longer falling, and the wind and lightning had lessened noticeably, but the rain was still heavy. Finally, the rabbits came across Meadow, who was tightly clutching the body of a dead rabbit, presumably her drowned father, and weeping into his side.  
  
***  
  
Rather than following the others, Meadow had run down the fork in the path, hoping that it would eventually lead back down to the bank further downstream, as her father had hoped it would before Pratt had discovered them. She could occasionally glimpse the river, as the path meandered agonizingly slowly towards her goal. She saw that the river was not so far below her each time that she saw it. Finally, she broke out of woods and onto the rocky bank of the rising river. "Father!" she cried, "Where are you?" Weeping, she began to bolt down the wet stones of the riverbank, knowing that the chances of ever seeing Arum again were next to none.  
  
After a minute of running, she noticed a natural dam of broken trees and other debris that had formed over the river where it had narrowed and had numerous rocks sticking out of the water to block the travel of larger objects. Water was crashing against the dam, but it held as most of the water simply swept underneath it. Beside one of the banks - on her side of the river - she noticed something floating in the calmer water there. It looked like an animal of some sorts, perhaps even...  
  
As she drew closer, she could make out the long ears of a rabbit. Her heart leapt for joy as she realized that it was indeed her father. However, she felt great sorrow just as quickly as she realized that he was drowned. He was bobbing lifelessly in the water, and he seemed somewhat bloated.  
  
Without thinking, she quickly jumped into the water, and, seizing his hind feet, proceeded to drag his heavy, saturated body onto dry land. Fearing that the river might continue rising, she kept on dragging him up the slope, using strength that she didn't even realize that she had.  
  
When she felt that she had gone far enough, she stopped and spoke in harsh sobs into Arum's ears, "Father! I've got you out! Please wake up!" She pressed her ear to his chest, but could hear neither breathing nor a heartbeat. Assuming that his bloatedness was due to swallowing water, she rolled him onto his back and began pressing down on his chest to force it out. At first, nothing happened, but as Arum's head was lying downhill, the fluid in his lungs began to seep forward, as Meadow pressed more firmly and desperately. Finally, Meadow saw water begin to stream from her father's mouth. She actually squeezed hard enough that she feared that she might break his ribs, so she reluctantly began pushing down more lightly.  
  
The bloating seemed to have receded, but still Arum lay lifeless. "Father, please, you can't just leave me here! You have so much to teach me! And I want my kittens to hear your stories some day! Father!"  
  
As the storm raged on around her, she knew that she had failed despite her efforts. Meadow turned away and began to sob bitterly. She had lost so much in her life. Her mother, her only three siblings, her friends Mark and Carol, their wonderful mother, Mara, and now, as she had heard Oaktrunk say, probably Gina, too. And now, her father. She had no one left for her, except the Grottons, whom she hardly even knew, and Oaktrunk, whom she had only met the day before.  
  
She surrendered, too tired to weep any more, and lay her head in her paws. She heard her own breath coming in deep, hoarse gasps. And then she realized that the gasping wasn't in the same rhythm as her own breathing.  
  
***  
  
Oaktrunk's heart was filled with sorrow and pity, and slowly made his way over to comfort Meadow. Then he saw that Arum's eyes were open - barely, but open - and that his mouth was moving. He couldn't hear what was said, but Meadow nodded and sobbed with joy, "...and I knew that you wouldn't leave me father, not like this..."  
  
Arum merely smiled weakly in reply and his eyes opened wider as he recognized Oaktrunk.  
  
"And you didn't think I'd stopped running, did you?" he asked in a grating whisper.  
  
"No," lied Oaktrunk, "I knew that the Black Rabbit wouldn't find you this day."  
  
************ 


	17. Part 17

Part Seventeen - Reprieve  
  
"We have escaped like a bird out of the fowler's snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped." Psalm 124:7  
  
"Norman? You can come out now. The storm has passed," called Winston, knocking on the root cellar's door. As the door could only be padlocked from the outside, he opened the door and peered inside. "Norman? Did you hear me? It's safe now."  
  
"Is it gone? Is there anything left?" George was huddled behind a wall of potato crates.  
  
"The house and the barn are fine, save for the windows and wet floors. However, I fear that the greenhouse and the crops..." Winston trailed off; he assumed George would figure that out on his own.  
  
As George emerged from his shelter, he couldn't believe his eyes. The scene was eerily reminiscent of winter. The ground was white, covered in several inches of hailstones. Against the windward sides of the buildings, the hail was piled to two or three feet deep. He could indeed guess the effects that this would have on his crops, which had been so close to harvest. George turned to see the greenhouse, or at least its skeleton. Not a single pane of glass remained in the entire immense structure, and all of its contents were buried under shards of glass and hail. There would be no income from this farm, not this year.  
  
"Insurance! You fool, you didn't buy insurance!" raged George.  
  
"Right," Winston rolled his eyes, "Just as you ordered, oh stingy one, despite my advice." In fact, George had thrown a tantrum when he had learned that his employee had had the nerve to buy crop insurance without his approval. George had immediately visited the insurance company and used proof of his ownership of the farm to cancel the policy, if nothing else just to show Winston who was boss. There was no denying who did what now, and there was the documentation to back up Winston, should his former boss wish to press the issue. Oh, well, it's not my crop now, thought Winston triumphantly while George steamed.  
  
Fuming, George whipped out his mobile phone and quickly stamped out a familiar number with his finger. As he walked around the ruins of the farm, he carried out a furious conversation.  
  
"Yes, this is George Castles. I demand to speak to my father immediately!... Jim Castles, you dolt!... I don't care if he's in a meeting; this is an emergency!... I want to speak to him now, you little..." The following string of words carried clearly across the farm, causing Winston to wince, as well as the limousine driver and even the less refined exterminators, who were busy surveying the damage to their vehicles.  
  
His tirade continued, "... and if I don't have him on the line in ten seconds, I'm going to personally see to it that you're sacked by the end of the day!... That's more like it!" George impatiently paced back and forth as he muttered under his breath. Finally, he continued, "Father? It's me, George... I know, and I'm sorry that I'm interrupting, but something's happened... It's that bloody storm, father, it's destroyed everything, the crops, the greenhouse... Everything! What am I going to do? And that bloody Winston Conner didn't buy any insurance!... What?! He told you what?... Father, I told him to get insurance, and he didn't listen... What papers?... No! Father, those papers are forged! I'm the one that bought the insurance, and he canceled the policy!" There was a pause, and George winced, knowing that his story had just blundered hopelessly. He listened as his father continued yelling from his end of the line. His face began to go white with fear. "No, father, you can't do that! I'll have no money! How will I live? Give me another chance; I won't be able to afford the taxes on the house... What?! You can't do that! I live there! Where in bloody tarnation am I supposed to live?... With you and Mum? Are you insane? I'm thirty-five years old!... A job? But I do have a job, I'm a businessman!... Work for you? What is the wage?... What?! I can't live on that! Who can possibly live on that?... A what?! Father, I am not a custodian! I am a first-class businessman! I absolutely refuse to be a custodian!... But... but... Oh, fine, then, I'll do it! But just for a while - until I find my own place, which will probably take ten years at that salary!... Ten o'clock tonight?! You want be to work tonight?!... Every night? Father, this isn't fair! The storm isn't my fault!..." George bowed his head in resignation, sighing, "Yes, Father, I'll see you tonight..."  
  
George dashed the mobile to the hail-covered ground, sending some shards of black plastic skittering off over the ice. He than marched to the house, waving his arms in rage, and yelling random curses, watched amusedly by the others.  
  
Soon, the mobile in Ken's limousine rang. He picked it up, and carried on a more civil conversation than the one that he just witnessed. "Yes, this is Ken speaking. Hello, Mr. Castles... Actually, your son just broke his mobile, that's why he wasn't answering... He just went back to the house... Yes, Winston's right here. Just a moment..." He looked at Winston and added, "Sir, it's for you. It's George's father.."  
  
"Hello? This is Winston Conner here."  
  
"Hello, I'm Jim Castles. Winston, I have a business proposition for you."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"My son - and I use the word sparingly - told me that the storm ruined the crops. Right?"  
  
"Oh, yes, Mr. Castles. I'd say everything is a loss."  
  
"And I know full well that you tried to buy insurance, and that George canceled it for no sane reason. Anyway, I know that the farm was purchased from a Newbury lady named Mrs. Elisabeth West - if my memory serves me correctly - this spring for a half-million pounds, and that you were running the farm for Mrs. West, also?"  
  
"Yes, that's correct. Mind you, Elisabeth was a whole world wiser with the business, if I do say so myself. Not to mention the fact that she paid me a lot more generously."  
  
Jim laughed understandingly, "Yes, I can imagine. Anyway, Winston, what I am thinking is this: When the farm was bought from Mrs. West, I made sure that I retained ownership and set up the condition that George would buy it back with the profits of the farm. Now, here is the offer: I wish to sell you the farm. Of course, the price would have to be fair, say... a thousand pounds?"  
  
Winston almost choked. "A thousand pounds? Oh, sir! Are you sure?"  
  
"Quite sure. Oh, and of course, I'll cover your crop losses for this year. Also, I have another idea that I'd like to try."  
  
"Oh, thank you sir! I can't believe this! What idea?"  
  
"Well, as you might guess, my son is cut off of the money tree, so to speak, and since he had never saved any more money than to pay for his next doomed investment... Well, George seemed rather upset at the idea of spending nights mopping floors and cleaning toilets for me, so I was wondering if you might see fit to hire him as your farmhand?"  
  
Winston fought down the urge to burst into laughter. Keeping a straight face, he replied, "Oh, I don't know... Oh... I guess I could use him. I'm sure he could swing a hammer. I was thinking that maybe I should build another barn and buy some Jerseys, and start up a dairy. Yes, that's it! He'll help build the barn, then, he can do the milking! I'm sure he'd love that!"  
  
"Sounds wonderful, Winston, thank you very much. We'll meet tonight at my home, yourself, George, my wife Arlene, and myself, and we'll work out the details. How does nine o'clock sound?"  
  
"We'll be there!"  
  
"Excellent! Well, I guess that I should say good-bye for now. I have a meeting to get back to."  
  
"All right. Good-bye, Mr. Castles. And, thank you again!"  
  
"My pleasure. Good-bye."  
  
Just then, George returned outside. "Ken, let's go. I have to go see my father."  
  
"Oh, you're not going with me, George."  
  
"What? That's, 'Mr. Castles' to you, Ken."  
  
"No, it's, 'George' to me. Your father signs my cheques, and he's just informed me that you are longer on my client list. So, if you want to come with me, it'll cost you a hundred pounds per hour. Which, as I understand it, you can't exactly afford right now."  
  
George fumed and made as if to strike the chauffeur, but he was restrained by Winston. "Hold off, George," said Winston, "Let him go. We've got some work to do here before we go and see your father tonight."  
  
"That's your work! I'm leaving!"  
  
"Not with me, you're not!" said the chauffeur. With that, he got into the limousine and drove out of the farm yard, leaving two tracks in the blanket of hail.  
  
"Well," mused Winston, turning his attention back to George, "Since you're working for me, now, I'd say it is your work." He gleefully observed George's expression and continued, "Oh, yes - ask your father. Unless, you'd rather clean toilets. But, we'll worry about the details tonight."  
  
The exterminators had now wandered over. "Well, the hoses are torn up," said Bill, "and the tanks are dented, but it looks like none of the gas is leaking, thank Heaven. Basically, we can't get rid of your rabbits today, Mr. Castles. Perhaps, next week?"  
  
Winston replied for his new employee, "Oh, don't worry about that, we won't be requiring your services any longer. I'll cover the cost of you coming out, if you wish."  
  
The exterminators looked at George, who looked away. They glanced at Winston, then at each other, and shrugged. "Suit yourself," sighed James, "I guess we'll be going, then."  
  
"Have a good day, lads," replied Winston. He watched as their windowless and pockmarked lorries slowly struggled out of the hailed-in yard and out of sight.  
  
As the limousine and the lorries drove to the other side of the river, the occupants were surprised to see how the worst of the hail was seemingly confined to the area of the farm where they had just been.  
  
***  
  
"What is that noise?" squealed one of the does that had chosen to stay in Grotto, "What are they doing to us?"  
  
Beet replied calmly, "It sounds like that storm has broken out on the silf. Have you ever heard so much thunder?"  
  
Restharrow added, "And it sounds like it's raining stones up there! One thing's for certain, it's not man doing that!"  
  
"Who cares about the storm?" cried another doe in the darkness, "They're going to kill us!"  
  
"Well, they haven't done much since they blocked the holes... and that was quite a while ago," replied her mate.  
  
"They're waiting until after the storm, I tell you! They'll be back!" shouted another buck. A number of rabbits began to babble with fear.  
  
"Quiet!" snapped Beet, "We are to just sit tight. If Frith wants us to live, we will." Beet had reassumed his position of Owsla Captain from Restharrow, and the authority in his voice had its desired effect.  
  
The rabbits sat in darkness in silence, listening to the tumult of the storm above ground. Eventually, the torrential rain began to seep down the two tunnels that had been covered by the gas hoses which had now been torn free by the wind, but this didn't gain the notice of the rabbits who were huddled far down in the heart of the warren. Most of the water soaked harmlessly into the ground. The warren had been well-designed to withstand southern England's often wet weather.  
  
Finally, they heard the storm abating. Beet decided to go above ground to investigate their new situation. As he climbed up the run and neared the exit, he was surprised at how much water had seeped in, turning the run into mud even some distance away from the surface. Then, there was the white glow from the hole itself. It was as if it was covered with a light blanket of snow. As Beet went further up, he was even more surprised to find that the hole was packed in and covered with balls of ice. He pushed through the large hailstones with his nose, and climbed up into a transformed world.  
  
The ground was white as snow for as far as the eye could see, and the trees stood bare as if in mid-winter. He looked up nervously at the two men standing by their hrududil, and who didn't seem to take notice of him, even though he was now contrasted against the white ground. They were obviously occupied with other things, presumably the same strange scene that Beet was beholding. They were also closely inspecting their hrududil, which seemed to have suffered somewhat from the storm's onslaught. The hrududil's skin was dented like rain-pocked mud.  
  
After a while of this, the men walked over to the other men who had been assaulting the warren, and who were now talking amongst themselves. Curious, Beet followed them at a distance. One of the men was obviously agitated. This was the same man that had shot him a few days earlier. The first two men then walked back to their hrududil, which then moved off into the distance and left the scene altogether. Beet knew that these hrududil were to be connected with man's attack, so why were they leaving now? Had plans changed? Did the storm have something to do with this? Beet went back to Grotto to report what he had seen. As he did so, he was surprised to meet Pipit and Fawn returning at the same time.  
  
"You're still alive? Where are the men?" started Fawn, with hope in her voice that Restharrow was also all right.  
  
"They've left," replied Beet, "I don't know why for sure, but the warren isn't zorn. Everyone is all right."  
  
The two does sighed with relief. "Will they come back?" asked Pipit.  
  
"I don't know, dear, but they seem to have changed their minds for now. How are the others? Are they at Cloudtree yet?"  
  
"We left them at the river. We just had to come back, but we had to wait out the storm in a tree - and we're lucky to be alive, which is more than we can say for the tree." said Fawn.  
  
Pipit added, "And I can't believe how much ice is on the ground just around here. It's more than twice as bad as where we were sheltered." She paused, and added firmly, "Well, I'm sorry to have left, dear, and I've returned to stay."  
  
"And I, as well," chimed in Fawn, "I already miss Restharrow terribly."  
  
"Well, Fawn," said Beet with a smile, "Restharrow feels the same about you. Come back inside you two, won't you? I'm sure that Oaktrunk and the others will be fine."  
  
***  
  
"So, what you're saying is that we still can't forget Pratt's little vendetta?" asked one of the displeased vixens. She looked up at the pouring rain that was soaking her fur and making them all miserable.  
  
"Exactly," replied Kate, "I really have gotten to know that dog fox quite well, despite our spats. I want to see Gina dead as much as he does. And at least I know that she's the only one of Mara's family left - it makes the matter much simpler. So, spread out and find her! She can't have gotten far from that confounded farm; Pratt managed to hurt her quite badly before she escaped from what I saw."  
  
"So, where did she flee to?"  
  
"I was getting to that," snapped Kate, "Do you mind? Anyway, she was running toward the river, and will probably try to use it to cover her scent. Let's start there, shall we?"  
  
After the foxes reached the river and moved downstream searching the bank for some minutes, they were met by the desperate vixen. Kate recognized her as Janice, one of the vixens of the area that was currently raising a family. Kate had invited Janice to join her group on several occasions, but was politely refused each time. No matter; the invitation would always be open.  
  
"Janice, what's wrong?" prodded Kate.  
  
"Do you know a dog fox named Pratt?" Janice spoke so quickly that she almost tripped over her words.  
  
"Of course! Why, as we speak, we're helping him find one his granddaughters - named Gina."  
  
"Yes - a while ago, Pratt was chasing after a vixen by that name," breathed Janice, and, noticing Kate's impatient nodding prompt, continued, "He asked me if I had seen her. I told him I had seen a vixen walking up the ridge to the top the river cliff, but that I didn't recognize who she-"  
  
"Well, of course not!" spat Kate, "She's a bigger recluse than even you are, so obviously you wouldn't know her! If you would just run with my group for even a month, you would know these things!"  
  
Janice put on the most indignant expression that she could muster. "Would you let me finish please?" She waited a few moments, to see if Kate would apologize. When no apology came, she continued at a more relaxed pace, "As I was saying, I didn't recognize the vixen, especially from a distance, but what I did notice was that she seemed to be following a group of rabbits. And she wasn't even chasing them - as a matter of fact, those rabbits didn't appear the least bit frightened! Oh, you should have seen the look on Pratt's face when I told him that! He went charging right up that ridge after them.  
  
"Needless to say, that really piqued my curiosity, so I started to follow him up. However, before I even got there, I heard the sounds of a horrible fight. I stayed well back after that, and then all of a sudden, I heard a fox yelp. It was the kind that made my blood curdle; a kind of death cry. I thought it might have sounded like Pratt, and I knew it came from below the cliff, so I made my way back down the ridge and went downstream to see what had happened.  
  
"Sure enough, at the bottom of the cliff, I saw two foxes lying there - Pratt, and the vixen I had seen earlier."  
  
Kate couldn't stand it any longer. "What?! Why didn't you just tell me to start with? Is Pratt all right?"  
  
"Well, I don't know - they weren't moving, and I didn't check on them. I came looking for help right away."  
  
"You didn't check?! You little..." Kate shocked her friends with a string of expletives which made them flatten their ears and which likely would have caused even George Castles to blush if he could have understood the fox tongue.  
  
"Well, no," spluttered Janice in an exasperated tone, "What could I have done? I thought that I should find others first."  
  
"Well, where is he?" cried Kate, on the verge of tears.  
  
"Come on then, I'll show you."  
  
When the arrived at the scene, the rain had lessened more, but was still falling at a decent rate. The thunder had all but abated; only occasional rumbles and sharp booms were heard from behind the heaviest veil of dark grey rain moving away into the distance.  
  
Just as Janice had said, there lay Pratt and Gina. Pratt's mouth was barely open and surrounded by rain-dispersed blood; there was no doubt that he was dead. Upon putting her ear to Pratt's cooling chest, Kate began to break into sobs.  
  
One of the vixens checked on Gina as well, and after confirming that she, too, was dead, spoke up, "Well, I really don't know what to make this. It's a shame, really, but I never much knew either of them. Kate, I'm really sorry."  
  
"He was really quite a jerk, wasn't he," sniffed Kate, "Trying to boss us around with his little mission to find Mara's family." At this she paused thoughtfully, then went on, "But maybe that's what I got to like about him in the short time I knew him. So confident and assertive, and so determined... I've never met any dog fox like him before. I thought maybe... someday... he might... we might..." Her voice trailed away.  
  
"You've never known any like him because most dog foxes stay away from you," observed another one of the vixens. Upon noticing Kate's icy glare, she quickly added, "No doubt because they know that they don't measure up to your stature." She finished meekly, "I'm sorry, too, Kate..."  
  
Kate's old friend Brenda spoke up finally, "Kate, you weren't thinking that he was going to be your mate this winter, were you? You realize that Pratt had a mate of his own, don't you?"  
  
Kate snapped, "If it were any of your business, maybe I was. And if it had ever come to that, I'd have fought her for him."  
  
"Well, that's past praying for now," replied Brenda, "There's nothing more to do here. I've got to get back to my den now."  
  
After Janice left, the other vixens left one by one. Eventually, only Kate remained, lying on the rocks and looking woefully at the body of Pratt. As the rain eased still further, she finally got up, touched Pratt's nose with her own, and after whispering a last farewell, she slowly trotted back upstream to where the others had returned.  
  
***  
  
After Arum had spent some time recovering from his near-drowning, the rabbits decided to make their way back upstream to the base of the cliff where Gina and Pratt had fallen. They had little doubt that their friend was dead, but they had to be certain; to say their farewells.  
  
"Arum, you saved countless lives today," said Oaktrunk, "You know that, don't you?"  
  
"It was an honour, sir," replied Arum, "You're my friends, after all."  
  
As they neared the place where the hombil had fallen, however, they quickly scampered behind rocks to hide themselves. They could see other hombil now which were looking over the bodies of Gina and Pratt. Fortunately, the rabbits were neither seen nor scented by them. One vixen in particular seemed upset to the point of tears, and seemed most distraught over Pratt.  
  
"Do you think that they are coming after us?" asked one of the does nervously.  
  
Arum replied, "I have a feeling that it was Mara and her family that was the sole target. With Gina dead, I suspect that they will call their search off."  
  
Indeed, the hombil soon went back upstream, away from where the rabbits were in hiding. After some time of sulking alone, the last vixen vanished up the river bank, leaving the bodies of Gina and Pratt alone.  
  
When they reached the bloodied stones where the two hombil lay, it was clear that Gina was dead. It appeared that she had bled to death from the bite to the throat delivered earlier by Pratt. How she managed to still tackle Pratt at the cliff after receiving that wound eluded the rabbits.  
  
"Well, my friend, I wish to thank you for our lives," said Oaktrunk sadly, "Farewell, until we meet again. I'm certain that El-ahrairah will have the promised friends in his warren."  
  
"Thank you, Gina. Goodbye-" was all Meadow could manage before breaking into bitter weeping. Her father finished for her.  
  
"Goodbye, Gina. I know you're with your family now, and I can't wait until we can all be together again." said Arum, "I'm sure we'll have plenty to catch up on."  
  
"Father," Meadow sobbed, "can we go now?"  
  
Arum looked at Oaktrunk, who offered, "Yes, we should be going soon. We'd better get to Cloudtree in case there are more hombil about."  
  
The band of refugees started off glumly, grieved over the death of Gina. As the panic of their escape faded, the deaths of their friends in the destruction of Grotto began to dawn full force on them.  
  
************ 


	18. Part 18

Part Eighteen - Grotto's Peace  
  
"In righteousness you will be established; Tyranny will be far from you; you will have nothing to fear. Terror will be far removed; it will not come near you." Isaiah 54:14, NIV  
  
Winston was in a good mood. He owned a debt-free farm for the first time in his life. At present, he was holding the still-nervous Hopkins in one gloved hand and held the phone in the other. "Hello, Linda? I was wondering if maybe I should clear a birthday gift that I had planned for little Cassidy with you and Dwayne first." He was hoping that his sister and her husband would agree to the gift. He was otherwise fresh out of original ideas for his niece's birthday this year. "Oh, it's a cute baby bunny that my, uh... former landlord caught a few days ago... Oh?... Are you sure?... I see... Well, I guess that settles that, then... No, I didn't know about her allergy. Not to worry, I'll find something else, then... Well, good day then, and say hello to Dwayne and Cassidy for me... All right... Good bye."  
  
Winston held up the young rabbit. He noticed that Hopkins was starting to cry again. "Don't worry, little one," said Winston softly, "I know just what to do with you now." He then called out to his new employee, "George! Get up already; it's seven o'clock! I need you to go to the hardware store and do some shopping around. We have to have the walls and roof on the new barn before winter sets in, and as long as we're out of nails, we're not getting anywhere!"  
  
As George cursed loudly into his pillow, Winston made his way outside with Hopkins.  
  
***  
  
It took about two days for all of the hail to melt away; the drifts against the buildings taking the longest to disappear. After this was left the flattened grass, stripped trees, battered roofs, flecked outer walls, and boarded windows to tell the tale of the storm.  
  
Those remaining in Grotto Warren had remained on edge for some days. As time went on and the would-be destroyers still didn't return, the mood finally began to settle down. And the mood took a definite turn for the better when one of Grotto's own that was thought lost forever came home.  
  
"Marli! Guess what!" Bryony practically flew into his burrow and crashed into his sleeping marli's side.  
  
"Ow! Bryony, how many times have I told you not to run into here like that? You're going to get a cuff if I have to warn you again!"  
  
"Sorry, marli," mumbled Bryony, and then picked up his voice again, "But guess what?!"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure I don't know," sighed Murrelet, who knew that she wasn't about to get back to sleep.  
  
Bryony poked his head out into the run and whispered, "All right! Come in!" He could hardly contain his gleeful giggling.  
  
Murrelet had almost regained her sleep when again Bryony crashed into her. "All right, young buck! I've had it with you!" She had her paw raised to discipline her mischievous son when she suddenly recognized in the darkness that the giggling kitten that had just bumped her wasn't Bryony. It was... "Wren! Wren! Wren!" was all that she could say, as she nuzzled and licked her daughter's face and burst into joyful tears. "Oh, how can it be! No one never comes back from man!"  
  
"But, marli, he let me go," said Wren, as she tried to avoid getting soaked by her marli's zealous attention.  
  
Murrelet paused for a moment and replied, "What?"  
  
"The man let me go - on purpose, marli. He didn't hurt me, but I thought he was never going to let me go. But, he did, marli - on purpose!"  
  
Drawn by the commotion, Chief Walnut-rah poked his head in and observed, "So, I hear that we've regained a 'lost' little doe?"  
  
"Oh, it's wonderful!" Murrelet burst out, recovering from her sobs. She turned back to Wren and prompted, "Are you sure he let you go? Didn't you just escape?"  
  
"No, marli," Wren urged, "he really let me go - on purpose!"  
  
"What's this?" said Walnut-rah, "He caught you and let you go again? Why did he keep you for so long? It's been hrair days!"  
  
Wren replied, "But Chief, sir, it was another man that caught me. It was a man I hadn't seen before. The man that has been around forever was the one that let me go."  
  
Walnut-rah chuckled, "Well, I don't think he's been around forever, but I know he was here before our oldest residents were born, including me. But this has me thinking. The 'good' man, if I may use the term, had never hurt us for all these hrair seasons. This new man - the 'bad' man, if you will, shows up and suddenly we're under attack. Hmmm..." Walnut-rah considered this for a moment, then turned to one of his companions. "Beet? It was the new man that shot you, correct?"  
  
"Oh, yes, sir; I'll never forget that ugly face!"  
  
"But, wait a minute!" protested Restharrow, "It was that so-called 'good' man that shot at me! He tried to kill me!"  
  
Fawn nuzzled her mate and replied, "Yes, dear, but he missed, didn't he?" She made it clear by her pronunciation what she was implying. "Perhaps he was warning you without upsetting that new man, who was probably his chief. I'll bet that man-chief has just taken over this area and is now ordering our warren to be zorn."  
  
"Zorn?" cried Wren in surprise, "We're going to be zorn? What's happening?"  
  
"Easy, dear," soothed Murrelet, "Some bad things did happen, but we're still here."  
  
While Murrelet was comforting her daughter, Walnut-rah was pondering. "You know, Fawn, I'm thinking your way," he agreed, "It may very well be that this man-chief is responsible for our woes. He probably asked those other men to come with their hrududil and make our warren zorn." He paused again, and asked to no one in particular, "So, why did they leave?"  
  
"If I may, Chief," offered Beet, "I think I may have an explanation. We know that man will often ignore us until we raid their gardens, in which case we can expect trouble. Well, of course these men had their garden inside of a strange thing made from solid air. We couldn't get in to eat their plants. Now, this new man-chief must have thought that we would somehow get in, and decided to strike first.  
  
"But, the storm changed everything. The ice balls must have broken the solid air apart, because it is no longer enclosing the plants. I went to investigate and found the stuff lying shining in Frith's light all over the place." Beet looked at a small wound on his paw and added, "It's really sharp stuff. Best to stay away from it, let alone walk on it. Anyway, we could get into their garden now if we wanted to, save for cut paws, but there would be no point. The plants inside have been ruined by those same ice balls. Their garden is gone, and maybe - just, maybe - the reason for the man-chief to want us dead."  
  
"Ah! Good thinking!" enthused Walnut-rah, "You have a very good point there, Beet." His voice became more solemn as he added, "However, we know that the man-chief is around still, and I wonder if he might still attack."  
  
Restharrow spoke again, "Speaking of man-chiefs, has anyone noticed how the man-chief seems to obey the older man now?"  
  
"Yes, I have, dear," replied Fawn, "It's as if the roles reversed somehow. In fact, the man-chief threw a stone at me yesterday, and the other man seemed to get very angry with him for doing it. It's a good sign, I tell you."  
  
"Then perhaps the older one is now the chief," ventured Walnut-rah, "and if he doesn't harm us, and he's in charge, then perhaps - I hope - we might be all right here. Of course, only time will tell."  
  
Wren had been silent for a bit, but for during the last part of the discussion, had been trying to draw attention to herself, saying, "But... I... You... They...", but was unable to find a break in which to speak, in addition to being constantly licked about her face by her over-attentive marli. Finally, as Walnut-rah finished his last thought, Wren managed to speak, "There's something else I wanted to tell you," she said meekly, "It might seem silly, but it happened."  
  
"What is it dear?" prompted Murrelet, pausing for a moment.  
  
"Well, after that bad man caught me, he gave me to the other man, and he put me in a big place, inside of a box made of wires. I was there for three days or so, and then one day the bad man came back. He grabbed me from the box and was hurting me, so I bit him. That must have made him really mad, because he put some hard skin on his hands so I couldn't bite him anymore, and he wrapped my legs in some stuff and then left me hanging by my legs. Then he went away and left me there.  
  
"I was trying to call for help, but I knew no one could hear me. But, a homba did hear me, and came right inside the place where I was trapped. Oh, marli, I was so scared!" Tears were starting to run down Wren's cheeks, but she continued, "But, marli, the homba didn't hurt me. She bit the stuff off of my legs and told me that I could go." Wren finished quickly, without waiting to hear any skepticism, "Marli, it's true! It happened!"  
  
"I know it is, dear," replied Murrelet softly and sincerely. Wren was surprised, not expecting that she would be believed. Murrelet added, "I don't believe that you've heard the story of The Promised Friend yet, have you?"  
  
Wren mumbled simply, "No."  
  
"Well, I'll tell it to you tonight. First, I'll explain about what has happened while you were gone from us. Then, after I tell you the story tonight, maybe tomorrow you can ask Pipit and Fawn to tell you about what happened to them and many of the others who left with them. You may have noticed that some of your friends were gone."  
  
"Not yet," replied Wren, "I've only just returned. But they've returned too, haven't they? Pipit and Fawn are back."  
  
"Pipit and Fawn are the only ones who came back. But don't worry, dear. The others will be fine, they are at Cloudtree Warren right now. And you know the homba that helped you? One of her daughters was helping them get there." Sensing her daughter's confusion, Murrelet added, "But there is so much to explain. You'll understand everything soon enough. The Promised Friend story will help."  
  
"But, marli, they're dead... The bad man killed them; I saw everything."  
  
"We know about that, dear. But, one of them wasn't there. And that one was helping the others escape to Cloudtree. Perhaps I should tell you the story now; then it will be easier to explain."  
  
***  
  
Wren greatly enjoyed her marli's telling of the Promised Friend tale. Indeed, she began to understand all that had transpired in recent days. Pipit and Fawn also explained how Gina had kept them safe until they reached the river, and how they had returned to Grotto without seeing what had happened to the rest of their friends. They were quick to assure Wren that the other Grottons were most certainly safe at Cloudtree Warren.  
  
Many others in the warren told Wren their tales of what had happened to Grotto: Beet about being shot, Restharrow about being almost shot (he was still not entirely convinced that the man who had shot at him wasn't trying to kill him), and by many others about the attempted assault on the day of the storm.  
  
After some more days had passed, and summer was in its waning days, the remaining Grottons decided that they were going to be safe, after all. The apparent new man-chief, the older one, had apparently had an argument of some sort with the former man-chief. The younger man had left and not returned.  
  
Given this new scenario, Beet and Walnut-rah decided to make a trip to Cloudtree Warren to visit General Hrairah and invite the refugee Grottons to come back home. Hopefully, the evidence of them being alive after all this time would be enough to convince the others to return.  
  
***  
  
General Hrairah was delighted when Oaktrunk finally returned. He was surprised, though not upset, to also see that hrair rabbits - all from Grotto - were accompanying his Owsla Captain.  
  
"Oaktrunk, what's happened? Why are they all here?"  
  
"Chief, sir, all I can say is that it's a good thing that I went to Grotto when I did. There's been trouble there - man attacked the warren, and I think that they may all be dead. Just like Sandleford Warren, I'm afraid."  
  
General Hrairah was heartbroken. "Chief Walnut? Please don't joke..."  
  
"Sir, I'm sorry. Chief Walnut-rah stayed. He saw it as his duty. So did Beet and Restharrow. The others, the families with nursing kittens, stayed as well - an honourable warren, they are... or, were." Oaktrunk looked down at the last bit.  
  
A tear soaked into General Hrairah's cheek fur. "Just when I thought that I might get over Flax' death, now this happens."  
  
Oaktrunk looked back up at his Chief. "But, these ones will be all right. And, I've met two new friends..." He nodded at Arum and Meadow. "Sir, we also met some other friends... You'll love to know this, but they're... oh..."  
  
"What is it?" urged General Hrairah.  
  
"Sir, we actually met the promised friend - a homba, believe it or not - and her three children."  
  
General Hrairah's eyes grew wide. "A homba?! Are you certain?"  
  
"Well," Oaktrunk managed a smile, "The mother homba - Mara - saved Arum and Meadow here, and one of her daughters - Gina - saved me from becoming the dinner of another homba. And Gina helped us escape Grotto. So, yes, we're all quite certain of who they were."  
  
"Well, where are they? I want to meet them!"  
  
Oaktrunk looked away, the pain evident on his face. "Sir, I'm afraid they're dead. The same men that attacked Grotto killed Mara and two of her cubs. Gina survived, but another homba - the one that Gina saved me from - killed her. And, sadly, it was Mara's father - Gina's grandfather - that did it."  
  
"You mean...?"  
  
"I'm afraid that we've already lost our promised friends, sir."  
  
"I see," replied General Hrairah, swallowing a lump, "You can tell me about them later. Right now, we've got to dig our friends some burrows to stay in. Oh, how I wish that I could count them so that I could know how many to dig. As it is, I guess we'll dig until we have enough room." Stop it!, General Hrairah scolded himself as he tried in vain to remember the numbers which a year before had come so easily, that's in the past. I've got to let it go.  
  
After a long day or digging by both the veteran Cloudtree rabbits and their new guests, the burrows had been expanded enough to accommodate all of the refugee Grottons comfortably. When the work was done, all of the rabbits in the newly-expanded Cloudtree Warren got together for a general meeting - for getting to know the new guests, for storytelling, and for reflecting on the recent events. Tears were shed for Chief Walnut and the lost friends of Grotto, as well as for the hombil whom all of the rabbits except Oaktrunk, Arum and Meadow hadn't even the honour of meeting.  
  
Following that, life in the new, bigger Cloudtree Warren went on; and things began to return to a somewhat normal routine. Oaktrunk and General Hrairah almost decided once to visit the ruins of Grotto, but couldn't bring themselves to it. In deciding not to go to Grotto, the shock that awaited them was delayed by a number of days, until their lost friends decided to pay a visit.  
  
***  
  
"Chief," began Beet, scratching at his damaged yet healed ear, "I'm certain that we'll be safe here now. I've been thinking that we should go to Cloudtree, just you and I - I'm sure that Oaktrunk and General Hrairah believe we're all dead."  
  
"Well, we thought we were dead, too, didn't we? At least I thought we were." Walnut-rah paused. "Beet, I never really thanked you for helping keep us all calm." He went on, hearing a familiar throat-clearing from a buck that had just wandered in, "And you, too, Restharrow. Without you two, I'm sure many of our rabbits would have tried to escape from the warren. We would have lost many out on the silf, for certain. I must admit, I was really at the end of my wits."  
  
"I was pleased to be of service to my Chief and my warren," replied Beet.  
  
"I as well, sir," echoed Restharrow, "So, you two are going to Cloudtree? I hope you find that Oaktrunk and our refugees made it there safely."  
  
"So do I," replied Walnut-rah, "Restharrow, as vice-Captain of the Owsla, you will be in charge while Beet and I are away. Hopefully, we can convince our rabbits to return. It might take a while to convince all of them to come back, though. We all had quite a scare."  
  
Restharrow beamed at the newly-invented title that Walnut-rah had just bestowed on him. "Thank you, Chief, sir, I'm honoured!" Then he quipped, patting Beet's ear, "But, I guess that means I'm still subordinate to the holy one here. Get it? Hole-y?"  
  
Beet turned to Walnut-rah and pleaded, "Please, Chief, just one cuff?"  
  
"Nah," smirked Walnut-rah, "You'd better make it two. One for me, too."  
  
"Ow! Help! Ouch! OW!! Hey! That's three!" laughed Restharrow.  
  
"Oops," said Beet in mock apology, "I thought the Chief meant two AND one cuff for him." The three laughed until they could hardly breathe.  
  
When the tears had cleared enough from their eyes, Walnut-rah called a quick assembly to inform Grotto of his intentions. Then, he and Beet left for Cloudtree Warren at a brisk pace, eager to relay the glad tidings with General Hrairah's rabbits and their Grotton guests.  
  
***  
  
"G-Gen-Gen'ral H-H-Hra'h! You've got to see this!" Oaktrunk's words were barely understandable due to his being out of breath from running and being interspersed with apparent laughter.  
  
"Oaktrunk? What's so funny? What's happened?"  
  
"General Hrairah, you've got to see this!" Oaktrunk repeated after recovering himself, "Out on the silf! Come here!" With that, he disappeared back up the run leaving General Hrairah confused in his burrow. When the Cloudtree Chief finally emerged from the warren, he found a gathering crowd - and not all of the rabbits were among the ones that had been living in his now-larger warren for some time now. He recognized the two visitors instantly.  
  
"Chief Walnut! Beet!" He froze with his mouth open, struggling to think of what to say next. Finally, he managed to blurt out, "You're here!"  
  
"Why, yes, we are," replied Walnut-rah smugly, "We've come to make sure that you're treating our fellow Grottons properly."  
  
Laughing just as Oaktrunk had just been, Chief Hrairah bounded playfully at Walnut-rah, bowling him over. "How did you manage to survive Grotto becoming zorn?" The thought that they might have abandoned their warren at the last minute never entered anyone's mind; that was clearly impossible.  
  
"Well, quite simply, Grotto isn't zorn. The humans didn't attack; they left, and they haven't returned yet." Walnut-rah replied while dusting himself off.  
  
Beet was quick to add, "And not only that, but we believe that the new man- chief that was responsible for the whole attack was turfed from his position by one of his subordinates - the peaceful man who has lived on by our warren for hrair seasons. And, I doubt that he will ever attack us. The other man, we haven't seen him in some time; I doubt he's coming back."  
  
By now, almost the entire warren of Cloudtree was aware of the visitors and were out on the silf, staring in disbelief. Walnut-rah finished, "Please, my fellow Grottons. It's time to come home. I promise you that you will find our home safe and sound. We've repaired what damage the men did, which wasn't much. And best of all, we didn't lose any rabbits in the attack - mostly because the attack was cut off, apparently by the big storm that day.  
  
General Hrairah remembered the storm that had sent his warren underground some days after Oaktrunk had left. That had to be the one Walnut-rah was referring to. "Yes, I believe I remember that one. We all do. We had some flooding here, and even some ice fell from the sky. And the wind and thunder were something else."  
  
"That's the one," confirmed Walnut-rah, "And the ice balls totally covered the ground by Grotto. The grass, the gardens, the fields, the trees - all were flattened or stripped of green."  
  
"And we think that may be one reason why that man-chief left; why we haven't been attacked again. There was nothing left for him to protect - and his idea of protecting his fields and gardens must have been to kill us all," said Beet.  
  
"So," called out Walnut-rah, "Who's going to come back to Grotto with me?"  
  
The gathered Grottons were overjoyed, and many were in tears at the thought of seeing friends that they had assumed were dead. About half offered to leave right away, after a hasty thank you and farewell to their kind hosts.  
  
"Now, wait just a minute," said General Hrairah in mock aggravation, "You're not going anywhere without us having a proper send-off first. This calls for a celebration. Stories, flayrah, bobstones, you name it. Oh, and a special surprise for you, Arum."  
  
Arum had just wandered to within earshot and his ears perked up. "What's that, Chief?"  
  
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," General Hrairah winked, "I should have done it as soon as Oaktrunk told me about what you did by the river. Right now, though, we have a party to plan."  
  
***  
  
"Honestly, Winston, you're enjoying this entirely too much. It's six o'clock in the morning, for Pete's sake!"  
  
"Well, I told you we had to get up early today. They're forecasting rain tonight, and I want the rest of the barn roof done before then. So, get up, already!" called Winston from the other side of the closed door.  
  
George grumbled and called back, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute."  
  
Half an hour later, he stumbled out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, where he wolfed down four cold Pop-Tarts. He then took several swallows of milk right from the jug, as he was used to living my himself in his old mansion. After his "breakfast", he jumped into his boots, not bothering to even lace them up, grabbed his gloves, and went out to the emerging barn structure, where Winston had already been hard at work for some time.  
  
The incident that made this George's last day on Winston's farm happened that afternoon. Winston had told George to drive into the nearest town with the lorry and flatbed trailer to pick up the lumber needed to complete the day's task. The drive in and picking up the lumber was easy enough. However, before starting back to Winston's farm, George failed to double check the coupling with the trailer. On one bumpy section of the road, the trailer unhitched and crashed into the ditch, and despite the sudden lurch or the suddenly lighter lorry, this went unnoticed by George, who was engrossed in his music. His favourite music was blaring at near-full volume, slowing damaging the speakers in Winston's lorry.  
  
When George pulled into the yard and Winston pointed out the obvious, George merely shrugged and replied, "I don't know... It was there when I left town."  
  
"Don't tell me..." started Winston, "All right, George, let's go back and find the trailer."  
  
After a quick heated debate over who was at fault, both men got into the lorry and retraced George's route.  
  
About five miles along, the found the upside-down trailer in the ditch, surrounded by plywood and two-by-fours, a good number of which were broken. The trailer had also suffered significant damage. Upon viewing this scene, Winston slapped his forehead and turned to George.  
  
"Well, George, you know that you've done nothing but whine about hard work, and then what little you've done had usually been substandard at best. It's obvious that you don't like this work, so I guess you can have your wish."  
  
"How's that?" asked George.  
  
"You're fired," answered Winston simply and calmly.  
  
George stood there silently for a minute, then nodded and replied, "Suits me. I can get my father to find me a real job at his company."  
  
"Yeah, you're right, sweeping floors suits you perfectly," said Winston quite truthfully.  
  
Shooting Winston an icy glare, George snapped, "I'm sure he'll make full use of my talents." With that, he turned and stormed off to a petrol station a mile up the road to phone him.  
  
***  
  
"Father, that idiot Winston fired me just now, for no reason."  
  
"Of course, son. What does a thousand pounds worth of good lumber and a new flatbed trailer matter, anyhow?"  
  
"Well, obviously, he told you his side of the story, but it's not my fault."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure, son. So, what are you going to do now?"  
  
"Well, I guess I'll come and work for you after all."  
  
"Oh, wonderful!" his father replied, "Your first shift is tonight at-"  
  
"NO, father, I'm not a custodian. I'm a businessman."  
  
"Well, I only have a custodial position open for you. If you want to have a job so you can eat and have somewhere to live..." After a minute of silence during which Jim Castles could imagine his son steaming at the phone booth, he finally relented, "I'll tell you what, George. A friend of mine has a fairly high position in a multi-billion-dollar, multi-national corporation. I'm certain that he can find a position that will suit you perfectly. I told him about you, since I figured you wouldn't last long on Winston's farm. He'd be happy to have you at one of the company's premiere locations."  
  
"Does it pay well?"  
  
"Not at first, George, but there is much room for rapid advancement if you show that you can do the job well. You'll be part of a major public relations operation, so you'll need to use your people skills. And I must admit, there will be a lot of pressure put on you to perform well. And you'll also be working with the latest in technology."  
  
"All right, Father, I'll take it; it sounds interesting enough. I guess I don't have much choice right now, anyway."  
  
"Where are you? I'll send Ken over to pick you up, and we can talk more about this later."  
  
************  
  
Epilogue  
  
"Arum, in recognition of your bravery in the face of danger, I proudly announce that you are hereby appointed the Owsla Captain-In-Waiting. Upon Oaktrunk's retirement, you will resume your duties as the Captain of the Cloudtree Owsla." After General Hrairah had finished his pronouncement, a wild cheer went up from the Cloudtree rabbits and the Grotton refugees.  
  
Arum's eyes were brimming with tears as he heard Meadow say, "Wow, father! You've gone from being a hlessi to a real Owsla Captain! Marli must be so proud of you; I know I am!"  
  
"That's Captain-In-Waiting, dear," replied Arum, "and yes, I'm sure she's sharing this moment with us, even if she's not with us physically."  
  
The hearty celebration went on long into the night, with many stories being told, one of the favourites being The Promised Friend, told with gusto by Swather, who was pleased to relate the tale in much happier surroundings than when he had last told it. There were countless games of bobstones going on simultaneously, and the laughter of wrestling kittens. General Hrairah looked on dreamily; this would be one of the fondest memories that he would hold for all time.  
  
The mood had been dampened, however, when Walnut-rah and Beet had received the news that Gina had been killed. "Don't doubt it," Oaktrunk had said, "She shares our joy tonight. She gave her life to save us, and that won't go unrewarded. I expect that El-ahrairah's warren has a special place for our promised friends."  
  
Crystal turned to her mate and murmured, "Dear? Do you think we'll see the next promised friend?"  
  
"In our lifetime? I don't know," replied General Hrairah, "But certainly our descendants will see another one. Frith has promised it."  
  
***  
  
"Well, George, indeed you are a skilled businessman," George admitted as he handed his former boss and former employee the appropriate payment, "You look like you're doing fine, even when juggling so many transactions in a day."  
  
George entered Winston's request into the touch-screen console, then shot his client a fiery glare, but broke off when a person who he knew to be a manager with more rank than he tapped him on the shoulder. "You must be new here, Mr... Castles," said the manager, eyeing George's name tag, "Aren't you forgetting something?"  
  
A sigh escaped George as he rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot," he replied, then, giving Winston his best "if you laugh I'll rearrange your face" look, added in a bitter tone, "Would you like some fries with that, sir?"  
  
The End  
  
************ 


End file.
